





t 








Melton shot toward liim like a flash, and caught his hair. 







‘BRAVE AND HONEST SERIES. S\\>. 2 


HONEST NED 


BY 




v 


EDWARD S.^ELLIS 

^ l\ 

Author of “River and Wilderness” Series, “Log Cabin” Series, 
“ Brave Tom,” “ Righting the Wrong,” etc. 


ILLUSTRATED 



NEW YORK 

THE MERRIAM COMPANY 

ST. PAUL 



fir 

■bfl 


Copyright, 1894, 

BY 

The Merriam Company. 




fpStiSZMT- 

5 

Copit... 


C. J. Peters & Son, 
Type-Setters and Electrotypers, 
Boston, U.S.A. 


HONEST NED. 






£ 


CHAPTER L 

On a certain warm, sunshiny morning in the month 
of August, the house of Shipman & Gumbridge was 
struck by a thunderbolt. 

Let me explain : — 

The firm was and is to-day one of the-richest and 
best-known houses in -Maiden Lane, New York City. 
The stock of diamonds and jewelry carried by thepi 
runs well up into the hundreds of thousands ; and they 
have gone through many a panic, and emerged as firm 
as the Rock of Gibraltar. They are known not only 
throughout the United States, but in the leading cities 
of Europe, where their credit has always stood at the 
highest point. 

Some months previous to the falling of the thunder- 
bolt, the house received from an Amsterdam firm one 
of those rare gems known as black diamonds. It had 
been taken from the Kimberley mines in South Africa, 
and, being several carats in weight, of spotless brilliancy, 
3 


4 


HONEST NED. 


and of the first water, its value was great. There are 
a number of such diamonds in existence, both in this 
country and across the Atlantic. The Holland house, 
believing there was a better chance of securing a big 
price for the gem in America, sent it to Shipman & 
Gumbridge, after it had been carefully cut, with the 
request to them to see what could be done with it. 

It was a magnificent stone, though such a contrast in 
color to the ordinary diamond that only one of those 
who have enough surplus wealth to indulge every 
whim could be expected to buy it. The price was 
fixed at thirty thousand dollars. 

The black diamond attracted a great deal of admira- 
tion and curiosity. It was displayed in the large show 
window of the firm, and day after day a group gathered 
in front and feasted their eyes on the extraordinary 
sight. At night, as a matter of course, it was securely 
locked, with the rest of the precious/stuff, in the mas- 
sive safe, strong enough to laugh at a regiment of 
burglars. 

By and by the right man came along. He was a mil- 
lionaire, who owned a fast yacht, a stable of blooded 
horses, and made life one grand/lioliday. He was 
engaged to the daughter of a multi-millionaire, and had 
overwhelmed her with so many presents, that he was 
racking his brain to find something new. ✓'"He found it 
in the black diamond. 


HONEST NED. 


5 


When Mr. Gumbridge named the price, the young 
man seemed disappointed that it was so small. He 
turned the gem over once or twice in his hand, held it 
up to the light, and then at varying distances from the 
eye. Mr. Gumbridge, who stood behind the case 
watching him, was quick to recognize him as an/ expert 
in diamonds. He handed him the magnifying glass, 
and invited him to step to the light, that he might give 
it the closest possible inspection. 

“It is flawless,” observed the caller, passing the 
stone back a few minutes later ; “ how many carats ? ” 

“ Not quite four.” 

“ It strikes me that that is a small price for such a 
curiosity.” 

“ It is precisely what I consider it worth.” 

Mr. Gumbridge knew before the ^gentleman spoke 
that he could obtain^forty thousand dollars from him 
as easily as he could half that sum ; but nothing could 
tempt him to break a law that had governed the firm 
from the day of its birth. It was their rule to fix the 
price upon whatever was for sale by them. This was 
never of a fancy nature, but was what was honestly 
believed to be fair, and under no circumstances was it 
varied from to the extent of a penny. They would as 
soon think of giving away a necklace of diamonds as to 
add to or take from its price. 

It did once happen that a “ previous ” clerk obtained 


6 


HONEST NED. 


three hundred dollars for a ring which was marked in 
the usual cabalistic way as worth but two hundred and 
fifty. Believing he had done a smart thing, he reported 
the matter to Mr. Gumbridge. 

“You have the gentleman’s address?” inquired the 
junior partner quietly. 

“ He gave it as the Windsor Hotel, but like enough 
he was yarning,” replied the youth flippantly. “ He 
was half full when he was here, and I believe I could 
have got another fifty out of him ; clean gone on some 
actress, I guess.” 

“ Put on your hat, engage a cab, and drive at once 
to the Windsor. The cost of the cab you will pay 
yourself. If you find the gentleman at the Windsor, 
hand him back the fifty dollars, with the best explana- 
tion you can make, provided it is a truthful one, obtain 
a receipt from him, and bring it to me.” 

The youth was''" dum founded, but he knew there was 
nothing for him to do but to follow orders. 

“Well, if he isn’t the crankiest old fogy I ever saw! ” 
muttered the clerk, as he climbed into a cab and gave 
directions to the driver ; “ he and Shipman are slow, 
and I can’t understand how they ever got such a big 
business. Shouldn’t wonder if they’re in a shaky con- 
dition and will go under before long ; I hope that chap 
isn’t at the Windsor.” 

But the gentleman was there. The employee found 


HONEST NED. 


7 


him in his room, displaying the ring to a couple of his 
admiring friends. The caller explained as best he 
could. He said there had been a mistake in the price 
charged, for which he wished to apologize, and to 
return him the excess of-difty dollars. 

“Well, now, that’s what I calDsquare dealing,” com- 
mented the gentleman ; “I shall recommend Shipman & 
Gumbridge to my acquaintances as the right kind of 
people to deal with.” 

The clerk began to see how it was his employers had 
built up such a substantial and lucrative trade. He 
thanked the gentleman for his^good opinion, hoped the 
house would always- merit it, and, folding the receipt 
and placing it in his pocket, hurried out and entered 
the waiting cab, which deposited him at the store 
within the following half-hour. 

Mr. Gumbridge called him into his office. 

“ Did you find him ? ” 

“ Oh, yes ; he was there, sober as a judge, and quite 
pleased with what we did. I don’t want to be imperti- 
nent, Mr. Gumbridge, but it seems to me you just as 
good as threw away ” — 

“You are impertinent, sir,” interrupted the gentle- 
man, extending his hand for the receipt, which he 
inspected through his eye-glasses. 

“ It’s all right,” he said; “and now here is something 
for you.” 


8 


HONEST NED. 


The clerk took a small envelope, opened it, and 
found that it contained his salary to the close of the 
week. 

“Why — what — how is^this?” he asked, with a 
vague suspicion of the real meaning. 

“ It means that we have no further need of your ser- 
vices ; you areYlischarged.” 

“ But — but — sir — I hope ” — 

“ You can make no explanation,” said the elder gen- 
tleman, rising to his feet, removing his glasses, and 
looking sternly at him ; “ you knew my^orders ; you 
deliberately broke one ; you disobeyed me : good-day, 
sir.” 

This instance, I repeat, was the only one of its 
kind that ever occurred in the history of the firm of 
Shipman & Gumbridge. It will serve to make clear 
Mr. Gumbridge’s refusal to vary in the price of the 
black diamond, or to accept the hint of asking more 
for it. 

“All right,” responded the gentleman, “you ought 
to know your own business best ; I’ll take it.” 

“ Very well ; shall I send it to you ? ” 

“ No ; I’ll give you my check for the amount, and 
leave the stone here until to-morrow afternoon ; I have 
to go to Philadelphia this evening, and it will be safer 
with you than with me.” 

“ As you please,” replied Mr. Gumbridge, who was 


HONEST NED. 


9 


pleased with the proposition, inasmuch as it allowed 
him, without any questioning on his part, to keep the 
stone .in his possession until he learned whether the 
check Avas good. 

The gentleman drew a small, narrow book from an 
inner coat pocket, stepped to the desk behind the case, 
filled it out, passed it to the diamond broker, Avho in 
turn gave him a receipt for the amount, and then, bid- 
ding him good-day, passed out of the store, and entered 
his waiting carriage. 

Mr. Gumbridge’s next act Avas to send his clerk Avith 
the check to the bank on Avhich it Avas draAvn. The 
teller gave one searching glance at it, and, in ansAver to 
the question of the caller, said : — 

44 That signature is good for-ten times that^amount 
any day.” 

This being duly reported to Mr. Gumbridge, he de- 
posited it in his own bank, put the black diamond in 
his safe, and then thought no more about it, other 
matters claiming his attention. The next morning he 
reached the store a feAv minutes after his clerk, and 
proceeded to open his safe. While his assistant Avas 
removing the trays Avith their precious load, he opened 
one of the small draAvers, and took out the little pack- 
age of silky diamond paper. It Avas that Avhich Avas 
the receptacle of the black diamond the day before. 
One look Avas sufficient. The stone was gone ! 


10 


HONEST NED. 


And that is what I meant when I said that on a cer- 
tain warm, sunshiny morning in the month of August, 
the house of Shipman & Gumbridge was ^struck by a 
thunderbolt. 


HONEST NED. 


11 


CHAPTER II. 

Adonijah Shipman, the senior partner of the well- 
known firm of diamond brokers and jewelers, had been 
absent several months with his family in Europe at 
the time of the startling incident just related. He ex- 
pected to be away until autumn, so that affairs were 
entirely in the hands of the junior member, who was 
about sixty years of age, of slight stature, and nervous 
manner. 

There were three employees of the firm, whose duty 
it was to report daily at the store, except, of course, 
when one or more of them was away on his vacation. 
The oldest was Ash Gibbons, about one and twenty 
years of age ; James McCutcheon, two years younger ; 
and Edmund Melton, who was barely eighteen. The 
firm evidently believed in young blood ; but each one 
of the three named had been in their employ from early 
boyhood. The duties of the three clerks kept them 
within the store through the day, except when absent 
for a brief while on special business ; while it need 
hardly be said that the firm had agents known through- 
out the country, and who traversed it from ocean to 
ocean ; but with them we have nothing to do. The 


12 


HONEST NED. 


explanation I am making it is necessary for the reader 
to keep in mind, in order to understand the incidents 
that follow. 

Each of the three young men received two weeks’ 
vacation every summer, arranging it among themselves, 
so that only one was absent at a time. On the morn- 
ing that the loss of the black diamond was discovered, 
Edmund Melton had been away just one week at a sea- 
side resort in New Jersey, and it was fixed that on his 
return McCuteheon was to take his place, Gibbons 
being the last to enjoy his play spell. But McCuteheon 
had been ill at home for a couple of days, and did not 
return to the store until some hours after the discovery, 
when he sauntered in, looking pale and out of sorts. 
Thus it was that Mr. Gumbridge and his clerk Gibbons 
were the only parties in the place when the young 
millionaire bought the black diamond, and when its 
loss was detected by the junior member of the firm. 

It should be stated further that each of the three 
clerks knew the -combination by which the great safe 
opened, and they had all swung back its ponderous 
doors many a time. Their employers gave them their 
unreserved^confidence. Any one acquainted with the 
thorough system of espionage in Maiden Lane, by 
means of the electrical system of alarm, policemen, 
and special watchmen, not to mention the prodigious 
strength of the safes in which the valuable stuff is 


HONEST NED. 


13 


kept, need not be told bow impossible it is for a gang 
of the most expert cracksmen infesting London and 
New York to make any headway there with their tools. 
Other fields are too inviting for the burglar to waste 
his efforts in Maiden Lane. 

Now, Mr. Wilton Gumbridge would not have lost 
any sleep because of the vanishment of thirty thousand 
dollars, though naturally it would have annoyed him 
to some extent. He was wealthy and liberal; but he 
was struck almost breathless by the knowledge that 
something had been stolen from his safe. He remem- 
bered distinctly wrapping the diamond in the soft white 
paper used for such purposes, and placing it in the 
small drawer, where of course it should have remained 
until he removed it. Although it was impossible for it 
to fall out of itself, he made a minute examination of 
the interior, hoping against hope that it had slipped out 
in some unaccountable way. 

The gentleman did not speak while thus engaged; 
but his clerk Gibbons quickly saw, from his agitated 
manner, that something was wrong. He remained quiet 
a few minutes, and then, hearing the gentleman utter a 
half-suppressed exclamation, he inquired respectfully, — 
“Is there anything amiss, sir? ” 

Instead of answering, Mr. Gumbridge asked, — 

“Are there any articles missing from the trays? 
Please examine them carefully.” 


14 


HONEST NED. 


The clerk did as requested, and a few minutes later 
answered, — 

“ I do not find anything missing, sir.” 

“I fail to find the black diamond which I sold 
yesterday.” 

As he spoke he watched the-nountenance of his em- 
ployee closely. The expression of wonder and doubt- 
ing dismay that passed over it was too marked to be 
feigned. Had he not known that the elder gentleman 
never indulged in a joke, he would have believed he 
was essaying a little one now. Gibbons could only 
stare in bewilderment for a moment, when he half 
whispered, — 

“I — don’t understand — it.” 

“ Nor I either ; at present it is a-mystery beyond my 
ken.” 

“ Isn’t it possible that you dropped it on the floor ? ” 
asked the clerk, looking about the feet of the gentle- 
man, and then stooping down and peering under the 
safe ; “or perhaps it is inside.” 

“It is neither,” said Mr. Gumbridge quietly; “or 
rather I should say, inasmuch as it must be either in- 
side or outside, that it is not within the safe, nor was 
it there when I opened it a few minutes ago.” 

The most natural thing in the world was for the 
gentleman to suspect his employee, since, it seemed, no 
one else could possibly have taken it ; but until now he 


HONEST NED. 


15 


had not doubted the integrity of Gibbons, and though 
the young man was inclined to be somewhat sporting 
in his tastes, never before had there been a breath of 
suspicion against him. He was popular among his 
associates, the only one to take care of an invalid 
mother and crippled sister, and the last person in the 
world whom his friends would have suspected of dishon- 
esty. But who among us is proof against temptation ? 

Mr. Gibbons would have been stupid had he not 
perceived the fearful case against him. He read it the 
instant he learned of the missing diamond. His sus- 
picion, or rather belief, was confirmed by the action of 
his superior. 

“ Mr. Gumbridge,” he said, his face pale, but his 
nerves as cool as if he was referring to the most ordi- 
nary occurrence, “I perceive your thoughts; I own 
that the case against me looks bad, but I amdnnocent. 
However, I wish you to take every step necessary to 
prove that innocence ; treat me as a thief until such 
proof is obtained.” 

“ From the bottom of my heart, I hope that proof 
will be speedily forthcoming, but we shalFsee.” 

Mr. Gumbridge’s course in the case of the disobedient 
clerk proved that he was not the one to falter before 
what he considered his duty. He was a man who 
rarely if ever showed agitation, and rarely spoke above 
his usual conversational tone. 


16 


HONEST NED. 


“ You will please place the articles in the window 
and show-cases, while I attend to some other business,” 
he said, stepping to the telephone which connected 
with the police office. 

He quickly got his reply, and then sent his message, 
the words of which of course were heard by Gibbons, 
while he busied himself in putting the articles in their 
proper places for the day’s business. 

“ Is Mr. Blowitz there ? ” 

“ No ; but we expect him shortly.” 

“Please send him to Burglar Alarm Company’s office 
as soon as he arrives.” 

“ All right, sir.” 

Mr. Gumbridge dropped the tube and walked back 
into the small room at the rear which served as his 
office. He did not speak to his head clerk, nor did the 
latter utter a word to him, but it need not be said that 
their thoughts were busy. Mr. Gumbridge sat a few 
minutes in deep meditation. Then he sprang up and 
put on his hat and hurried around to the office of the 
Burglar Alarm Company. 

Addressing the gentleman on duty, he said, — 

“ I wish to learn whether any alarm came from my 
store last night.” 

The gentleman consulted his register a moment and 
replied, — 

“ Yes, sir ; there was such an^larm, or rather call.” 


HONEST NED. 


IT 


“ Of what purport? ” 

“ It was a signal to us to break the connection, as 
you wished to open your safe.” 

Mr. Gumbridge was interested, but hardly surprised. 
Such visits from authorized parties to their stores were 
not infrequent. He had made one himself about a 
year before, when, forgetting to “call off” the alarm, 
he found a sturdy policeman on hand by the time he 
fairly got the doors of the safe open. Any one intend- 
ing a theft would do just what had been done, in order 
to save himself from such an unpleasant call. 

“ At what hour did the word come to this office ? ” 

The official ran his line along the entry, and re- 
plied : — 

“ At a quarter to one this morning. Jones was on 
duty last night ; he will explain, if anything more is to 
be explained.” 

“ There is blessed little,” said the diamond broker, 
who turned to Jones, and made known what he wished 
to learn. 

“ Yes, sir,” said that individual ; “ I was on duty last 
night : at twelve forty-five there came a call from your 
store which I recognized as a request to us to sever the 
connection with your alarm, as you wished to open the 
safe for a few minutes. I did so, and within the fol- 
lowing five minutes we received the notification that 
everything was all right and the safe was closed. Con- 


18 


HONEST NED. 


nection was re-established, and we thought no more 
about it. Was it you who visited the store last 
night?” 

“ I rather think not,” replied Mr. Gumbridge dryly. 

“ Has anything been taken ? ” 

“The individual who honored you with his message 
over the wire last night, or rather early this morning, 
walked off with an article which I sold yesterday for 
thirty thousand dollars.” 

The men opened their eyes, as well they might. 

“But,” said Jones, “how came he to have the com- 
bination ? ” 

“ That is what I would be glad to know ; I would be 
interested also to learn who he is.” 

At this juncture Detective Blowitz, one of the best- 
known and most skilled men in his profession, arrived. 
He was of slight stature, thin frame, bright eyes, and 
alert manner. He was an old acquaintance of the 
jeweler, and shook hands with him. Mr. Gumbridge 
knew his^worth, and after a few minutes’ chat asked 
the privilege of a private interview. The two passed 
back to the inner office, and sat down alone. 


HONEST NED. 


19 


CHAPTER III. 

It took Mr. Gumbridge but a few minutes to tell his 
story. Detective Blowitz listened quietly until it 
was finished, and then proceeded to ask a few sharp 
questions. 

“You understand, of course, Mr. Gumbridge, that 
the real protection of your property rests in the safe. 
Nothing is easier than for a professional burglar to let 
himself through your front door and, walking to the 
rear, where you have your safe, open the wooden inclo- 
sure. But in doing that he must start the electric 
alarm, and presto ! a policeman is on him before he can 
say Jack Robinson. Now, in the Holmes system and 
most of the others, the call sent over the wires asking 
them to sever the connection must be made at the reg- 
ular time for opening. That is to say that, though it 
may be acceded to, if it should be sent five minutes 
earlier or later than the usual time, the Holmes folks 
will instantly send one of their men down to the store 
to make certain everything is right. Not until he has 
assured himself that it is so, will the visitor be left 
undisturbed ; and it takes only five minutes to do that. 

u In the system which you employ, the mere sending 


20 


HONEST NED. 


of the alarm is sometimes, but not always, accepted, as 
the folks at the office suppose that call is only in the 
possession of the right parties ; besides which, the safe, 
with its insurmountable combination, still confronts the 
illegal visitor. Your caller complied with these condi- 
tions, and, possessing the combination of your safe, 
walked off with the black diamond. How many per- 
sons besides yourself know the right call and the 
combination ? ” 

“ Each of my three clerks, — Edmund Melton, James 
McCutcheon, and Ashton Gibbons.” 

“ What of Mr. Shipman ? ” 

“ He has them of course ; but he is absent in Europe, 
and will not be back before next month.” 

“ What clerks were with you in the store yesterday? ” 

“ Only one, — Gibbons.” 

“Where was McCutcheon?” 

“ He has been home a couple of days sick.” 

“ And Melton ? ” 

“He has been off on his vacation for a week at Ocean 
Beach, New Jersey.” 

“It looks as if it was on-^Gibbons.” 

“ I cannot see how the criminal can be any one^else.” 

“ What sort of a fellow is he ? ” 

“ I have always considered him one of the best and 
brightest clerks I ever had.” 

“ Has he ever been under suspicion ? ” 


HONEST NED. 


21 


“Never; nor indeed has either of my other clerks. 
I would rather lose the worth of the missing diamond 
than learn that Gibbons is a thief.” 

Detective Blowitz smiled faintly; and lighting a 
cigar, after offering his patron one, he swung one leg 
over the other, leaned back in his chair, and looked at 
the wall for a full minute, as if deeply meditating. 

“ I think,” he said, with his hands clasped behind his 
head, and the cigar still in his mouth, 44 that Gibbons 
has the care of an invalid mother and sister.” 

44 You are right ; he is a model son and brother.” 

44 How much salary do you pay him ? 

44 Forty dollars a week, and I meant to make it fifty 
on the first of next January.” 

44 Very liberal pay — very liberal pay ” — 

44 But he has been^worth it all along,” broke in Mr. 
Gumbridge, resenting even such a slight insinuation 
against his business judgment. 

44 Of course, of course, or you wouldn’t pay it.” 

The detective smoked a moment more, and then 
said, — 

44 From what I have heard of him, he is about twenty- 
one years old ; am I correct ? ” 

44 You are ; he cast his first vote at the last spring 
election.” 

44 And as to McCutcheon, what is his age ? ” 

44 He is about two years younger. He is of delicate 


22 


HONEST NED. 


build, an expert penman, a faultless accountant, and a 
young man who is fully devoted to our interests. He 
has several brothers and sisters, and his parents are liv- 
ing, and in comfortable circumstances.” 

“ What is his pay ? ” 

“ Thirty dollars a week.” 

“ You are quite liberal, Mr. Gumbridge, but I am 
sure no more than you ought to be. He has been home 
sick for several days ? ” 

“Yes ; but he expects to return to-day.” 

“ Yes,” returned the detective musingly ; “ and as to 
Melton, what about him ? ” 

“ He is one of the brightest and best young men I 
ever knew ; he has been with us four years, and I would 
not hesitate to intrust him with any amount.” 

“ Have you ever done so ? ” 

“ I do it continually when he is with me.” 

“ And he could skip with the precious stuff whenever 
he chooses ? ” 

“ It would be the easiest thing in the world ; but he 
would sooner put his hand in the fire than do so.” 

“ I hope you are right. May I ask what his salary 
is?” 

“ Ten dollars per week.” 

“ What ! ” exclaimed the detective, snatching the 
cigar from his mouth, and looking keenly at his friend; 
“ what does that mean ? ” 


HONEST NED. 


23 


Mr. Gumbridge laughed as he replied, — 

“ I don’t wonder that you start. Melton is an or- 
phan, without brother or sister. When he reaches his 
majority he will come into the possession of a comfort- 
able estate ; but until then he is in charge of his uncle, 
Colonel Marcellus Bainbridge, who is his guardian, and 
who holds the reins pretty tightly over him. His 
nephew began in our store on ten dollars a week. My 
intention was to raise it as soon as he had been tested ; 
but when I spoke to Colonel Bainbridge he perempto- 
rily-forbade it. He gave as his-reason his belief that 
it is a woful-mistake to allow young men to have con- 
trol of too much, money. He attributes the ruination 
of so many youths to that one fact. He informed me 
that under no circumstances was I to pay his nephew 
more than ten dollars a week until he reached the age 
of twenty-one, when, of course, he will be his own mas- 
ter. I had therefore no choice but to- obey.” 

“ Colonel Bainbridge’s views of matters are strik- 
ingly original. What board is his nephew expected to 
pay out of his big weekly salary ? ” 

“ His uncle charges him three dollars a week for his 
board and lodging. He says every young man ought 
to pay that, even if his parents are millionaires ; but the 
colonel furnishes him with everything else, — clothing, 
pew-rent at church, his dues at the Y. M. C. A., and 
even his contributions to religious and charitable 


24 


HONEST NED. 


objects. He considers that he is very liberal with 
him.” 

“ How does the young mam accept the situation ? ” 

“ So far as I see, with- cheerfulness. He has never 
uttered a word of complaint in my hearing, attends to 
his duties faithfully, and is one of the best-natured boys 
I ever knew. It is a pleasure to have him come in the 
store, whistling softly, or humming some tune. He is 
a natural musician and a fine athlete ; I confess, I am 
very fond of him, and I don’t mind saying to you that 
I offered to increase his pay without the knowledge of 
his uncle. He thanked me, and shook his head, saying 
he could not consent ; that he meant forobey his guard- 
ian in spirit and letter.” 

“ A noble young man a noble young man, but ” — 

Here Detective Blowitz brought down both feet on 
the floor with a thump ; and, holding his cigar in his 
left hand, slowly shook his finger at the diamond broker, 
as if to emphasize each word, fixing the while his eyes 
upon the other’s face. 

“ Mr. Gumbridge, you and Colonel Bainbridge are 
pursuing the one-course that is certain to make a^thief 
of young Melton. It may not be to-day nor to-mor- 
row, nor next week or month ; but sooner or later 
that promising young man wilksuccumb to the tempta- 
tion : my only wonder is that he has withstood it so 
long.” 


HONEST NED. 


25 


44 1 don’t agree with you, sir,” said Mr. Gumbridge 
stiffly. 

44 You may not, agree with me, but my words are true 
all the same. In my judgment you and Colonel Bain- 
bridge are compounding a ,-felony, or rather, you are 
training a boy up to become a criminal.” 

44 But what about this black diamond?” asked the 
caller curtly, as a reminder to the detective that he had 
wandered from the business upon which his advice was 
sought. 

44 Ah, yes ; we came near forgetting that. I presume 
the next thing that strikes you as proper is ter arrest 
Gibbons ? ” 

44 What else can we- do ? though it is not to be sup- 
posed that he has- forgotten to take precautions that 
will prevent our recovering the diamond.” 

44 There is only one objection to arresting him, Mr. 
Gumbridge.” 

44 What is that?” 

44 He is-innocent.” 

44 He is innocent ! How can that be ? ” 

44 Because he was in my company from eleven last 
night until after one o’olock this morning. There were 
others with us, so he will have no trouble in proving 
an alibi.” 

44 You amaze me ! Who, then, is the thief ? ” 

44 1 don’t know, but I shall try tofflnd out.” 


26 


HONEST NED. 


CHAPTER IV. 

“ Last night,” continued Detective Blowitz, as he 
again crossed his legs, returned his cigar to his mouth, 
and leaned back in his chair, “ I dropped in at the Man- 
hattan Club; it was just eleven o’clock, and the first 
person to greet me was-Gibbons. He was sitting at 
the table with two friends, whom he introduced me to. 
I sat down, and we got to talking, and kept it up until 
after one o’clock. Gibbons is a very companionable 
fellow, and there is no one with whom I more enjoy a 
chat than with him. 

“Now, inasmuch as your safe was robbed between 
twelve and one o’clock this morning, and inasmuch as 
it can be proven that Gibbons was many blocks away at 
that hour, it may be said that he is eliminated from the 
problem before us.” 

“ There can be no questioning that fact, and it gives 
me a greater relief than I can express. I will go right 
round to the store and express my-regrets,” added Mr. 
Gumbridge, rising to his feet. 

“Wait a few minutes, please,” said the detective, 
motioning him to resume his seat, which he did ; “ I 
would have further word withnthee. I am aware that 


HONEST NED. 


27 


with the story-writers the professional- detective is 
accustomed to explain -all liis plans, and lay bare all his 
thoughts, to every one with whom he talks for five 
minutes. I regret that I can’t afford to do that; but I 
am following the rule of the business. Now, without 
saying what is in my mind, I want to get a little more 
information from you. In doing that, I must inevitably 
give way to some of the- fancies that are running 
through my thoughts ; but let me say that at this mo- 
ment I have no more knowledge of the thief than has 
the man in the moon. 

“ But let us go back a little. Can you recall the 
name of the young man who^bought the diamond and 
gave you his^check therefor? ” ^ 

44 He signed the check,, 4 R. Field McFarlane.’ ” 

44 1 know him ; he is very- wealthy, but so are some 
others who at this moment are rusticating in Canada. 
Now I beg you to recall all that took place when he 
was in your store yesterday.” 

44 1 see what is in your mind ; you think he may have 
abstracted thejdiamoncUwithout my knowledge.” 

44 1 haven’t said so.” 

44 It isn’t necessary ; but he did not do as you suspect. 
I had the diamond in my hand after he left the store.” 

44 Are you sure ? Did you see it? ” 

44 1 think so.” 

44 1 don’t want any thinking ; I want positive 
knowledge.” 


28 


HONEST NED. 


“ I am positive I had it in my hand after he went out.” 

“ What makes you certain when you are not sure you 
saw it?” 

“I folded it in the diamond paper after he handed it 
back to me, talked with him a few minutes, and, as he 
bade me good-day, I turned around and placed it in the 
drawer inside the safe.” 

“ How soon after that did you close the safe ? ” 

“ Within the following five minutes ; we shut up 
early at this season.” 

“Then Gibbons had no chance to take it from the 
safe yesterday afternoon ? ” 

“ Not the slightest ; we left the store together and 
walked to the corner of Broadway, where he took an 
up-town car, and I went to my room at the Astor 
House, where I am staying while my family is in the 
country, except on Sundays, which I spend with them.” 

Mr. Gumbridge may have suspected what was pass- 
ing in the mind of Detective Blowitz ; but, if so, he 
was mightily mistaken. It was impossible for the 
detective not to think fast and hard while pursuing his 
investigations. 

Had Mr. Gumbridge asserted that he had actually 
seen the black diamond after his purchaser turned his 
back to leave the store, that would have ended all prob- 
ing in that line ; but it is well known that crime has 
enlisted on its side, at all times, a subtle ingenuity and 


HONEST NED. 


29 


a skill as marvelous as that which is arrayed against 
it. Suppose the late Heller or the present Hermann 
had stood in the place of the young millionaire, would 
the abstraction of the gem without the knowledge of 
the jeweler been more wonderful, or indeed as won- 
derful as scores of their exploits ? 

No doubt Mr. Gumbridge was confident that he had 
the stone wrapped in the diamond paper, and that he 
was equally certain he put it in the drawer inside his 
safe ; but the detective did not consider the fact es- 
tablished beyond all possible mistake. Though Mr. 
McFarlane may have carried the black diamond away 
with him, it had been established that some one visited 
the store that evening after midnight, and called off 
the electrical connection. 

But that was to be expected. It was not to be sup- 
posed that the young man personally would do it ; but 
nothing was easier than to secure a trusty confederate 
to act for him. True, he must have had the peculiar 
call by which the sergeant at the police-office was made 
to believe everything was right ; but that was not so 
difficult as might be supposed. Any early or late cus- 
tomer might have caught the peculiar signal without 
attracting suspicion to himself. He may have done it 
a week before, and he may have made several visits 
before catching it. 

It was clear that McFarlane was to be looked after, 


30 


HONEST NED. 


and Detective Blowitz arranged tliat he should occupy 
a seat in the store that afternoon when the gentleman 
called for his property. He wished to have a good 
look at him, and especially to note his manner during 
the interview. 

But Detective Blowitz’s thoughts did not rest upon 
this individual alone. There were two others whom 
he intended to^investigate. The fact that the clerk 
McCutcheon had been home ill for a couple of days 
did not exclude him by any means from the problem. 
It was not impossible that his illness was feig-ned. If 
he was well enough to come to the store that day, he 
could have made a midnight visit to the place. 

But it must be confessed that the gravest-suspicion 
lay against young -Melton, who was spending his vaca- 
tion at a little seaside resort in New Jersey. One 
thing to be learned was whether he had left Ocean 
Beach the day before to come to New York, and, if so, 
when he returned. This knowledge could be easily 
obtained, and must have an important bearing on the 
perplexing question. 

“ I hope he did notM?ome to the city,” reflected the 
officer ; “ but if he has, it will be bad, and a man of 
business must know no sentiment. If Melton is the 
thief, his' guardian is' not wholly blameless.” 

Mr. Gumbridge now bade the officer good-day and 
went to his store. 


HONEST NED. 


31 


When he arrived, he found his clerk Gibbons, who 
had arranged everything in order, seated on his chair, 
pale but composed. He looked searchingly at his 
employer, who, walking straight up to him, extended 
his hand. 

“ I beg your forgiveness, Ashton ; it has been estab- 
lished that you are as innocent as I: I cannot tell you 
what a load has been lifted from my heart. ,, 

The young man heaved a sigh, and with a glad smile 
asked, — 

“How was the proof obtained? ” 

“You were at the Manhattan, I believe, last night, in 
company with Erastus Blowitz ? ” 

“ I was ; how did }^ou learn it? ” 

“ He told me himself.” 

“ Where did you see him ? ” 

“ I met him while I was out, and lie gave me the 
statement.” 

It was on Mr. Gumbridge's tongue to say that 
Blowitz was the detective whom he had employed to 
ferret out the matter ; but it occurred to him that that 
gentleman might not wish it known that he was a 
detective. Men of his profession often associate for 
months and years with their friends, without the latter 
learning their real calling, one of whose indispensable 
requisites is secrecy. 


32 


HONEST NED. 


CHAPTER V. 

Between two and three o’clock that afternoon, De- 
tective Blowitz sauntered into the store of Shipman & 
Gumbridge, as though, finding himself in the vicinity, 
he had concluded to drop in for a little chat. He 
shook hands pleasantly with Mr. Gumbridge, who 
invited him to a seat in his office. On his way thither 
he stopped to speak with Clerk Gibbons. He made no 
reference to the trying incidents of the morning, but 
the radiant face of the young man told the fact that 
everything was right, so far as he was concerned. 

The officer had hardly taken his seat and lit a cigar 
when McCutcheon, walking with the help of a cane, 
entered and greeted his employer and his associate. 
One look at his colorless face left no doubt that he was 
just recovering from a severe illness. Naturally he 
passed behind the counter and took a seat on one of 
the stools. He was not invited into the inner office, 
and had no suspicion that any one was there, nor did 
he once note that the door was open for an inch or so, 
and that a pair of ferret eyes were fixed upon him, as 
if they would read him through and through. 

As a matter of course, he knew nothing about the 


HONEST NED. 


33 


tlieft of the black diamond, and the incident was not 
told to him. Mr. Gumbridge, however, referred to the 
stone in an indirect way, and finally said that a gentle- 
man had called to buy it the day before. 

“I am glad of that; for the price was so high that I 
believed we would have to send it back to Amsterdam, 
or hold it a long while.” 

While McCutcheon was uttering these words, Detec- 
tive Blowitz and Mr. Gumbridge kept their eyes riveted 
upon him, listening to the tones, and watchful of his 
manner. There was not the least indication that he 
suspected what had taken place. 

44 Thank Heaven!” thought his employer; 44 he is as 
innocent as Gibbons or I.” 

44 He doesn’t act like a guilty man,” concluded the 
detective, withdrawing his gaze ; 44 but we will suspend 
judgment, as the courts say.” 

McCutcheon lingered only a short while. He said 
he hoped to return to his post on the morrow; but his 
employer told him not to think of doing so until 
entirely well. 

44 Lie off the rest of the week ; business is slow, and 
we won’t take these few days out of your regular 
vacation.” 

44 You are very kind,” replied the grateful youth, 
rising slowly from his chair and leaning heavily on his 
cane as he passed out. 


34 


HONEST NED. 


“I’ll be back shortly,” remarked Detective Blowitz, 
going quickly out of the door. 

He thought it well to look after the young man for 
a few minutes. 

“He may grow a little stronger when he is out of 
sight of the store,” he said to himself, as he fell in 
behind him and graduated his pace to that of the 
convalescent. 

But the officer saw no evidence of anything of the 
kind as the youth painfully made his way toward 
Broadway. 

“ I’d like to shadow him longer, but I mustn’t miss 
McFarlane — I say Archer,” he added in an undertone, 
as he came face to face with a stocky-looking young 
man ; “ have you anything on hand now ? ’ ’ 

“ Nothing except that matter this afternoon.” 

“ Keep your eyes on that young chap ahead there 
with the cane ; notice whether he holds that plodding 
gait ; see where he goes, and observe whether he speaks 
to or meets any acquaintance on the road. Don’t let 
him get out of your sight till he reaches his own 
home.” 

Archer nodded, to signify that the orders should be 
followed, and, turning about, Detective Blowitz went 
back to the store of Shipman & Gumbridge. 

The long sultry August afternoon dragged slowly 
away, and, as evening approached, there were signs of a 


HONEST NED. 


35 


violent storm gathering. Mr. Gumbridge grew impa- 
tient over the delay of his expected visitor, but the 
detective took it calmly. One of the necessities of the 
profession is an Esquimau-like patience which nothing 
can ruffle. He smoked and dozed, and read the papers, 
and was disposed to give up the matter as closing time 
approached. 

There had been several calls, and among them a 
couple of purchasers, not to say anything of the post- 
man and a messenger boy who brought a telegram from 
one of the agents of the house in St. Louis. Finally, 
when Mr. Blowitz was stretching and yawning for the 
twentieth time, Ml. Field McFarlane arrived*- 

The detective did not scruple to leave the door of the 
office wide open, though he sat well back. He had a 
good view of the caller, however, and noted his minu- 
test manner. He was a gentleman at all times. He 
was dressed nattily, and, bidding Mr. Gumbridge good 
afternoon, said in his breezy way, — 

“ I am a little later than I anticipated ; T got back 
from Philadelphia a little past noon, but had to go up 
town first : now, if you please, I will relieve you of my 
white -blackbird, - thanking you for your * kindness in 
taking care of it for me.” 

And he drew forth his -pocket-book, and extracted the 
receipt of the day before. 

Standing behind the case, Mr. Gumbridge looked 
him steadily in the face, and asked, — 


86 


HONEST NED. 


“Where did you stay when in Philadelphia ? ” 

The gentleman showed hi& surprise at the question, 
but replied without hesitation, — 

“ At the Continental ; may I inquire why you wish 
to know ? ” 

“I might ha ve^ telegraphed to you, had I known 
where to reach you, that the black diamond had been 
stolen from our safe.” 

“Is it possible ? ” asked Mr. McFarlane ; “I am 
sorry to- hear that. Have you taken -steps to- recover 
it?” 

“I have been thinking of doing so, but it is one of 
the most mysterious-occurrences I ever knew.” 

“ Let me hear about it, if you have no objection.” 

Mr. Gumbridge gave a brief account of what the 
reader has learned long ago. The gentleman listened 
with deep interest, and, when the story was concluded, 
remarked, — 

“ That is a-curious proceeding. It looks as if I were 
not the only one who has ar fancy for black diamonds, 
inasmuch as you tell me your visitor did not disturb 
anything else. Well, I hope you will find it-again ; for, 
now that it is missing, naturally I want it- more than 
ever. Here is my card ; please let me knowwvhen you 
recover it.” 

And he turned about to go when Mr. Gumbridge 
stopped him. 


HONEST NED. 


37 


“ I cannot permit that ; the stone being- lost, you owe 
me- nothing. 1 withdrew youi> check from the bank, 
and here it is.” 

“ I would prefer that you keep it for a week or two, 
at any rate, so as to give me a mortgage on the thing.” 

. “ That is contrary to my rules of business. I promise 
you that if it is found it shall be-subject to your call.” 

“Very well; as you prefer: and accepting the slip 
of paper, and returning the receipt, Mr. McFarlane 
bade the jeweler good-day, and passed out upon the 
street. 

“ Well, what do you-think of him ? ” asked the latter, 
walking back to where the smiling officer sat. 

“ He’s a_cool one* provided he is 'guilty.” 

“ Pshaw ! he- isn’t guilty. How could he be ? ” 

“ There isn’t much of a. case, against him. Well, I 
have had a good-look at him, and now I’ll go.” 

Shortly after, Mr. Gumbridge, leaving his clerk to 
close the store, started at his deliberate gait in the direc- 
tion of the Astor House. 

Meanwhile the young man whom the detective had 
addressed as Archer (and whose full name was Josiah 
Archer), having completed his duty, went to the house 
of Detective Blowitz, where he was awaiting that gen- 
tleman when he arrived. His report was what was ex- 
pected. James McCutcheon had been followed to his 
home. He had walked part of the way, but, finding the 


38 


HONEST NED. 


exercise too severe for his strength, he took a car for 
most of the distance. He did not stop to speak to any- 
one, nor did he seem to attract any special attention 
on the journey. He went directly to his own home on 
Fifty-seventh Street. The young detective waited an 
hour on the outside ; but the clerk did not reappear, 
and he believed he was there at that-moment resting 
from his fatigue. 

“Very well,” quietly remarked the elder, when his 
report was finished ; “now I want you to take the train 
to Ocean Beach, New Jersey, and hunt for a man 
named '■Edmund Melton. At this time of the year 
there are a good many trains running to the seaside, and 
as it isn’t very late, you can catch one of them.” 

“ And what if Ffind him there ? ” 

“Ascertain whether he was in New York yesterday.” 

Detective Blowitz then related the-account of the loss 
of the black diamond, adding that there was reason to 
suspect that young -Melton was -mixed up in it. He 
gave his assistant all the points necessary, and the 
young man left. 


HONEST NED. 


39 


CHAPTER VI. 

Despite Detective Blowitz’s rigid training and his 
long experience, involving more than one pathetic in- 
cident in which the hearts of others were broken, he 
felt uncomfortable over the fact that the trail was un- 
mistakably leading toward the young, man who was 
enjoying his vacation at the seaside. The brief account 
he had received from Mr. Gumbridge had prepossessed 
him to a marked degree in favor of the youth. No lad 
could have been commended more highly, and none 
could be placed in a more dangerous situation than he, 
where, with great wealth at his command, he was forced 
to live upon a mere stipend. 

“ I have no doubt he has been obliged tasave up for 
months in order to pay his expenses while on this brief 
outing. I hope there is no.smell of fire about his gar- 
ments, but I tremble for him.” 

While he had sent his assistant to investigate, Mr. 
Blowitz did not neglect a simple expedient within his 
reach. He went to the residence of Colonel Marcellus 
Bainbridge, and rang the bell. 

“Is Colonel Bainbridge at. home ?” he asked of the 
servant who answered the call. 


40 


HONEST NED. 


“ No, sir ; the family is now in the country.” 

“ But Master Edmund is here, I believe.” 

“No, sir; he went away a week ago yesterday, and 
we don’t expect him back for some time.” 

“But didn’t I see him in town yesterday? ” contin- 
ued the detective, feigning surprise ; “ surely I could 
not have been mistaken.” 

“ If he was in town, which I don’t believe, sir, he 
wasn’t near this house.” 

“ How can you be sure of that? He might have let 
himself in with his key after you were all asleep.” 

The woman shook her head and compressed her lips. 

“ That couldn’t be ; my husband and I are the only 
ones who stay here at night, and we lock every door 
and fasten the window and set the burglar alarm. Is 
there anything the matter?” she abruptly inquired, 
awaking to the fact that this curiosity was somewhat 
strange. 

“ Oh, no, nothing at all ; but I was so sure I saw him, 
that I was convinced you had made a mistake, but I 
see that it is impossible. I’m obliged for your kind- 
ness ; good-day.” 

“He’s a queer one,” muttered the woman, standing 
in the door and watching the caller as he sauntered up 
the street ; “ it strikes me, now I come to think of it, 
that his questions were impudent, and he don’t believe 
what I told him.” 


HONEST NED. 


41 


But Detective Blowitz did credit every word she 
said, and his heart was a great deal lighter as he 
walked up town. 

“If young Melton was not in New York last night,” 
he concluded, “he is as well -out of the, scrape as is 
Gumbridge himself. Although it deepens the mystery, 
I am glad of it.” 

But the detective could not quite- free himself of the 
discomfort that had been growing upon him ever since 
the case came into his hands. If Edmund Melton was 
forgetful of his honor to that extent as to steal the 
black diamond, he was doubtless^ shrewd enough to 
cover his- tracks well. Knowing that suspicion was 
likely to be. turned toward him, he would not have 
stayed in his-own home, nor allowed any of his friends 
to see him while in the city. 

Mr. Blowitz was not an idle man when business was 
on hand. He had plenty of time at his disposal, and he 
improved it. He had told Archer to telegraph him the 
moment he learned the truth about Melton’s suspected 
visit to New York, for the fact, either way, was so 
simple, that there ought to be little delay in ascertain- 
ing it. Blowitz expected to hear the* news in the 
course of the -evening. 

His first task, after making his call at Colonel Bain- 
bridge’s, was to gather -up the few remaining^truths 
concerning young McCutcheon. Here he made better 


42 


HONEST NED. 


progress than he expected. Learning where to go for 
his information, he found that the young man bore an 
excellent character (as did all the employees of Ship- 
man & Gumbridge). He was a strict member of the 
church, had no bad habits so far as known, and was an 
active officer in a branch of the. Y. M. C. A. 

A special meeting of such officers as were in town 
was called the preceding evening at the house of 
McCutcheon, he sending a particular request for three 
friends to visit him, as the matter was one in which he 
was greatly interested. The gentlemen came, for they 
held the youth in too high regard to refuse him any 
favor that could be granted. Two of them remained 
away from their families at Long Branch on purpose to 
accommodate him. 

It being the season of the year when the days are 
long, they did not reach McCutcheon’s house until after 
nine o’clock. The night was warm, and they stayed a 
long time on the back porch talking with their esteemed 
friend. All became so interested in the matter before 
them, that McCutcheon’s. weakness was. forgotten even 
by himself. When they started to go he detained them, 
and finally compelled all three to remain over night 
with him. The hour of retiring lacked but a few 
minutes of one o’clock. This all-important truth was 
established on the testimony of two of the gentlemen, 
who had mentioned it the next day as proof of the 


HONEST NED. 


43 


entertaining^powers of young McCutcheon, no less than 
their own thoughtlessness. They were away from the 
city on the night that the detective picked up the fact, 
but he had it from a ^person, thoroughly trustworthy, 
who heard their words. 

“Fate is very kind to -McCutcheon and Gibbons in 
this- alibi business,” reflected Detective Blowitz, as* he 
made his way homeward, at a leisurely gait, late in the 
evening; “I hope it will be„.equally kind to Melton. 
If it is, then I shall have to get in some fine work on 
McFarlane. I wonder whether the gentleman has ever 
taken any- lessons in the art of sleight of hand,” he 
added abruptly. “ That is quite a fad in his set, and 
he may have become an expert. But there is some- 
thing absurd in the idea that a young man possessing as 
much wealth as he does would descend to~ theft. Klep- 
tomania, however, is a disease which never afflicts poor 
people ; with them it is. stealing. 

“ Then, too,” continued the detective, following the 
line of musing on which he was started, “lie must have 
had a confederate to learn, in the first place, the call- 
signal, and, in the next place, to- use it. It is inconceiv- 
able that he would have burglariously entered the store, 
and Gumbridge says that yesterday was the first time 
he ever saw him come into his place. For a man hold- 
ing his situation in society,, he would be a fool to give 
any one such a hold upon him. 


44 


HONEST NED. 


“ No, there isn’t one chance in a thousand that he had 
anything to do with it. It will be waste of time to 
pipe him, though I’ll set Zimcoe on his track for a 
while. Then, suppose I get word from Ocean Beach 
that Melton hasn’t left there since he visited it on his 
vacation, whom shall I -suspect? I’m blessed if I 
know,” he added, removing his hat and mopping his 
forehead. “ I wonder whether Gumbridge or any of 
his clerks have ever given away the- combination of his 
safe. It doesn’t seem likely, but one of them may have 
dropped it without suspecting the fact. It’s a con- 
foundedly hazy affair any way you look at it. I hope 
there is some word from Archer.” 

He ascended his own steps a few minutes later, and 
let himself in with his night key. The lamp burned 
low in the hall, and, reaching up, he turned it on full 
head. As he did so, and before removing his hat, he 
glanced at the rack where his letters and messages were 
always placed by his servant at night. There lay the 
cheap yellow envelope of the Western Union, with his 
address on it. It was with more agitation than he had 
felt in along time, that he broke it open, and by the 
gas-light overhead read the following sentence : — 

* “ Melton spent last night in New York. 

Archer.” 


HONEST NED. 


45 


CHAPTER VII. 

Josiah Archer had taken up the business of de- 
tective less than two years before he assumed a rdle 
that was destined to be the most memorable in his life, 
in tracing the black diamond so unaccountably ab- 
stracted from the safe of the jewelers and diamond 
brokers, Messrs. Shipman & Gumbridge. Believing 
that he had now entered upon a case where he had the 
chance to make liis-mark, he threw his whole energy 
into the task. Hitherto he had not had- anything of 
much importance, and he accepted the work given to 
him by Mr. Blowitz as a proof of confidence which he 
meant should be raised far above par. 

The work, as has been intimated before, was so sim- 
ple that the veriest tyro would have found no trouble 
iiL doing it, that is, so far as learning the simple fact as 
to whether or not Melton was in New York on the pre- 
ceding evening ; but beyond that he saw looming up 
possibilities of achievement such as would make the 
older members of the force turn pale with envy. If it 
should be proven that the young man had made the 
visit to the metropolis, then Archer would set to work 
to trace the diamond. It was unfeeling, but in his 


46 


HONEST NED. 


heart he never wished for anything more ardently than 
he did that such a visit had been made by the young 
man who was all unsuspicious of the Nemesis that 
was descending upon him as fast as steam could carry 
him. 

It was between seven and eight o’clock that evening 
that Archer’s train drew up at the long platform of 
Ocean Beach (now called Belmar), and he stepped 
down and made his way to one of the several hacks in 
waiting. The inquiries which he had made on the 
way led him to take the stage that set him down at the 
well-known Columbia House, which stands very near 
the ocean. The first thing, after handing his bag over 
to one of the colored boys in waiting, was to register 
and go to his room to prepare for dinner. There was 
no objection, that he saw, to using his own name, and 
he wrote in a good round hand : — 

“ Josiah Archer, New York City.” 

Then he ran his eye rapidly over the register for sev- 
eral pages, and just a week and a day back, he came 
upon the name : — 

"7 “ Edmund Melton, New York City.” 

There was the. game for which he was hunting. 

Then, as he stepped aside to make room for another 
gentleman waiting to register, he asked in a low voice 
of the clerk, — 

vu Is Mr. Melton with you yet?” 


HONEST NED. 


47 


“I am not sure. He went to New York yesterday, 
and I don’t know whether he has returned or not.” 

44 Yes, he has,” said a guest, standing near; 44 he got 
back this morning and was in bathing. I think he is 
down at the pavilion.” 

44 Never mind,” remarked the detective; 44 1 will meet 
him later : there is no hurry about it.” 

When Archer ascended the stairs he went up two 
steps at a time. He felt as light as air. He was sure 
he was on the trail of the criminal, and would have him 
jugged before long. He had impressed the number of 
Melton’s room on his mind, and found that it was at 
the rear, opening on the upper piazza, which extends 
along the avenue. His means would not permit him to 
take one facing the ocean. Archer was in such high 
spirits that he could hardly keep from breaking out in 
song. He did hum softly, and began to hail the grand 
success that he saw within his reach. He would achieve 
glory and~distinction at a bound. At a single leap he 
would land in a niche above that which it had taken 
Blowitz more than ten years to attain. He would — 
but hold ; it would never do to give rein to his fancy 
in this style ! 

After dinner, Archer lit a cigar and sauntered toward 
the pavilion, as it is known at Ocean Beach. The 
threatened storm having cleared, or, more properly, 
having spent itself over the metropolis, and the night 


48 


HONEST NED. 


being close and sultry, that resort was crowded with 
visitors. Parties were promenading back and forth 
over the board walk, while the beach was-dotted here 
and there with couples tolling on the sand in loving 
attitudes, and talking of the -thousand airy nothings 
that suggest-themselves at such times. And the old 
Atlantic was as majestic, as -overpowering in its gran- 
deur as ever. The breakers, their crescents crowned 
with foam, sparkling with phosphorescence, tumbled 
and broke against the shore, sliding far up the smooth 
beach, in their quest for those that were lounging too 
near, and eager as ever to clasp the confiding in their 
merciless grasp, and strangle all life out of them. 

It was quite dark, but the full moon was due between 
nine and ten o’clock, and scores were scattered along 
the beach to witness the sight, which is always impres- 
sively beautiful. Some, forgetful that other eyes were 
sharp, despite the gloom, were so affectionate in their 
actions as to excite smiles, and occasionally crisp com- 
ments, which recalled with comical suddenness the 
forgetful ones to themselves. 

The detective extended his walk to the pavilion, 
where, seating himself under the covered platform, lit 
by the several lamps, he prepared to use his eyes and 
ears for all they were worth. 

He had no description of young Melton, and, so far 
as he knew, had never-seen him ; but that did not pre- 


HONEST NED. 


49 


vent him from inquiring for him as though he were an 
old acquaintance. There were several who knew the 
gentleman ; hut it was evident that he was not on the 
pavilion. A boy said he was there only a few minutes 
before, and was probably on the beach near by. Light- 
ing another cigar, Archer began plodding through the 
sand, just beyond reach of the incoming waves, looking 
keenly at the groups as he approached and passed them. 

About half-way between the pavilion and the Colum- 
bia he suspected he saw his man. He was attired, so 
far as he could discern, in a light summer suit, his hat 
lying beside him, while he supported his body in a lazy 
attitude on one elbow, employing the other hand in 
scooping out a hollow in the sand, after the manner of 
little children, who find enjoyment in that sort of thing 
for hours at a time. 

“ I beg your^pardon,” said the detective politely, 
“but have you seen Mr. Melton this evening?” 

The gentleman addressed came to a sitting posture, 
and, with his knees drawn up and clasped by his arms, 
replied : “ My name is Melton.” 

“Ah, this is jolly; how are you, Bob? ” 

Archer bent forward and peered at his face in the 
gloom, with his hand extended, as he seated himself 
beside him. The young man accepted the hand, but 
said with a pleasant laugh, — 

“You have made a mistake; my name is Edmund 
Melton.” 


50 


HONEST NED. 


“ Well, now, that’s funny ; I took you for my old 
classmate at Princeton, Bob Melton. He told me he 
was going to spend a part of the summer on the Jersey 
shore ; and, when I found there was a Mr. Melton stop- 
ping at the Columbia, I jumped to the conclusion that 
it was he. I beg your pardon, I am sure.” 

Archer made no move to leave, and Melton promptly 
answered, — 

“That is all right; there are a good many people in 
this world whose names and looks are similar, and the 
wonder is that there are not more mistakes made. Are 
you staying at the Columbia ? ” 

“Yes ; I arrived on the last Central train.” 

“ I suppose you will remain several weeks?” 

The detective was glad to be questioned in this off- 
hand style by his new acquaintance, for it gave him an 
excuse to do some thin gJaimself in the same line. 

“I would like to do so/’ he replied, “but I can 
hardly afford the time. Business you know is busi- 
ness.” 

“Yes, I have learned that; I have been here a little 
more than a week, and it doesn’t seem- half that long. 
I must be at work in- New York within the coming 
week, so as to give the other boys a turn. It seems to 
me,” added Melton with boyish frankness, “ that I 
never could get enough of a vacation like this ; and yet 
I suppose it would become irksome after a while. The 


HONEST NED. 


51 


only way to enjoy anything of this kind is to stint 
yourself. I often think of what the old hunter said to 
General Washington.” 

44 What was that ? ” 

“ 4 Gin’ral,’ said he, 4 if you want a ra’al good night’s 
sleep, set up for two nights and you’ll be sure to get it.’ 
There’s a good deal more philosophy in that, according 
to my thinking, than appears at first. The rich are to 
be envied, and yet they don’t get half the fun and en- 
joyment out of life that the poor and healthy do.” 


52 


HONEST NED. 


CHAPTER VIII. 

The detective was getting along famously. Ed- 
mund Melton possessed one of those magnetic, boyish 
natures which attract and win all with whom they 
come in contact. Archer could see his face and profile 
clearly enough to know that he was remarkably good 
looking; and he did not need to be told that he was 
popular among his associates. 

He offered the youth a cigar, which he declined with 
thanks, and rattled on in his-aimless fashion : — 

“ I have really lost one day out of my vacation,” he 
remarked, after the talk had run on for a considerable 
while. 

“ Ah, how was that? Not sick, I hope.” 

“ Gracious, no ! I never remember-being sick an hour 
in my life; but I had to go to New York yesterday, 
and the place looked anything but inviting under the 
August sun.” 

“You hurried back, of course, so as to spend the 
night here ? ” 

Melton hesitated a moment, as though, for the first 
time in their conversation, a_ theme had been touched 
upon which he could not speak freely. Archer noticed 
it ; but the reply came the next moment, — 


HONEST NED. 


53 


“No, I had to stay all night; but I was back this 
morning on the first train, and I hope I won’t have 
to go again until my vacation is over. Even then I 
wouldn’t object to a message from Mr. Gumbridge, 
that I might stay another week.” 

He laughed in his merry fashion, and turned his 
frank face toward the gentleman at his side, as if invit- 
ing his views on the important subject. 

“Gumbridge, Gumbridge,” repeated the detective; 
“ he is in the dry-goods line, isn’t he ? ” 

“No; haven’t you heard of the diamond and jewel- 
ry establishment of Shipman & Gumbridge, Maiden 
Lane?” 

“ Yes ; but it is out of my line.” 

“ May I ask what is that ? ” 

“ Life insurance, and I don’t fancy it ; for it is a 
business in which one must make a confounded nui- 
sance of himself or fail utterly ; even that doesn’t avail 
him half the time.” 

“My business is quite different,” said Melton; “I 
devote myself to jewelry and diamonds ; but we have 
the best employers in the world. The senior is away now, 
but a father couldn’t be kinder than Mr. Gumbridge.” 

“ Did you see him yesterday ? ” 

“No; I didn’t reach the city till after business hours, 
and I came away too early this morning to call — ah ! 
lookf there ! ” 


54 


HONEST NED. 


A chorus of exclamations of “ There it is ! ” went up 
from the' parties along the beach and on the walk, and 
all eyes were turned toward the horizon over the ocean, 
where the fiery upper edge of the Tull moon had just 
shown itself. It rose rapidly and looked prodigiously 
large, as it came more into view, the great flaming ball, 
gleaming across the dark waters, and sending a stream 
of light to the shore, whose expansion and contraction 
always seem the reverse of what they should be. 

But those who had viewed with delighted admiration 
the same scene were now favored with an unexpected 
and uniquelydbeautiful sight, which ^man is fortunate 
who beholds.once in hisJife. Every one was hushed, 
and nothing but the dull boom of the breakers struck 
the ear, when a universal series of “oh’s” and “ah’§’ 
came to the lips of the beholders. 

The moon had just climbed above the horizon, the 
lowermost point of the rim appearing yet to touch the 
water, when a ship .under Tull sail glided in front of 
it. Masts, rigging, and hull were as sharply defined as 
if impressed in, ink against the glowing orb. The en- 
trancing picture could last but a moment. The ship, 
which came out of the darkness into the flood of splen- 
dor, sailed into the gloom again, toward her port, which 
may have been on the other side of the world, all 
unconscious of the wonderful treat she had given to 
the multitude along shore. And the moon climbed 


HONEST NED. 


55 


higher and higher, seeming to slacken its speed and 
shrink in its dimensions as it ascended farther and 
farther above the horizon. 

“That, sight is worth coming a ^thousand miles to 
see ! ” exclaimed the detective with enthusiasm. 

“ Truly it is ; I have often heard of it, and a number 
have told me they had seen it, but this is the first time 
it was ever my.good fortune.” 

“How glad I am that I’m here to-night. I have 
something now to tell my patrons when I am boring 
them for their- applications.” 

From the direction of the hotel came strains of 
music mingling with the deep bass of the ocean. Most 
of the promen aders began moving thither, and Melton 
proposed to his new acquaintance that they should do 
the same. He willingly agreed ; and, rising to their 
feet, they plodded through the yielding sand to the 
plank-walk, along which they strolled until they 
ascended the steps of the Columbia, and passed through 
toward the dancing-room, where several scores were 
tripping over the smooth floor to the music of a^colored 
orchestra of -five performers. 

Archer was anxious to obtain a good view of young 
Melton, and as they came into the glare of light he did* 
so. The view could not have been more--pleasing. He 
was the picture of athletic^grace andJbeauty, as shown 
in a youth jus ^developing into manhood. He wore a 


56 


HONEST NED. 


white flannel suit, canvas shoes, and carried a jaunty 
straw hat in his hand. His hair was black and cut 
short, and the faint warnings of adeeming mustache^ap- 
peared on his finely turned upper lip. The face was a 
pure oval, with regular features, dark, merry eyes, and 
a perfect set of white teeth, which showed when he 
smiled. 

Add to this the fact that Melton was one of those rare 
youths, who, possessing all these attractions, yet seemed 
unconscious ^of them, and little more can be said in 
commendation of his^ appearance and, manner. It was 
not strange that the moment he came forward, he was 
warmly greeted by ladies and gentlemen. He stood 
with a number of others at the door, watching the, in- 
spiriting scene, Archer being one of the group. 

Within five minutes, a half-dozen bright young 
ladies were gathered round him, laughing, chattering, 
and jesting, and wanting to know why he had not 
appeared before and taken part in the dance. Melton 
replied that his costume was hardly the proper one for 
the ball-room ; but they reminded him that this was one 
of the “ off nights,” and directed his attention to the 
fact that there were hardly half a dozen in evening 
dress. He had to confess that he was cornered, and, 
flinging his hat into one of the chairs at the side of the 
room, called to Archer, asking him to excuse him, and 
the next moment was whirling about the room with the 


HONEST NED. 


57 


prettiest girl of all, the consensus of opinion being that 
they were the^ finest-looking couple and the^ best dan- 
cers there. 

“ There is no use-for jne here,” concluded the detec- 
tive, walking back to the front room, where he sat down 
at the table and busied himself with writing quite a 
lengthy letter. 

It was addressed ta Erastus Blowitz, and was what 
might be called his report, for it summarized his experi- 
ence after his arrival at Ocean Beach that evening. 

U I have spent more than an hour in Edmund Mel- 
ton’s company,” wrote Archer, “and find him one of 
the most -'agreeable youths I ever met. He is hand- 
some, athletic, and wellHiked by everybody. He pos- 
sesses a fine education, and seems frank and outspoken ; 
but, for all that, I have observed something deep in his 
nature which a ^superficial acquaintance would -not 
notice. 

“In our conversation, he told me that he went to 
New York yesterday on a late afternoon train. When 
I remarked off-hand that, of course, he hurried back, so 
as to spend the night at this delightful resort, he-hesi- 
tated. Finally he said he stayed in the city, but left 
on an early train this morning. 

“ The hesitation and his peculiarity of ' manner were 
significant. In the brief space between my-^question 
and his answer he must have done a good deal of 


58 


HONEST NED. 


thinking. No doubt he meant at first to say that he 
was here last night, but saw that such an untruth could 
be easily detected. So he admitted the important fact, 
trusting to other means of proving an ^alibi t if neces- 
sary. 

“I have no doubt in my own mind that it was he 
who took thejblack diamond, though whether or not 
he has it with him is a question that remains to be 
answered. I beg you to leave me. alone here to work 
the case to its end. If I need help, I will telegraph 
you. Of course I shall keep you. informed of every- 
thing, and rely on youi% superior rjudgment when the 
time comes to act. I think it is safe to promise that 
you may rest^-content in th# certainty that we are on 
the 'right^trail and will soombag the game.” 

“Bag the game ! ” Little did Josiah Archer suspect 
the^pain those words-caused Detective Blowitz.when 
he read them on the following day. 


HONEST NED. 


59 


CHAPTER IX. 

Detective Archer was just finishing this important 
letter, when he became conscious that some one was 
standing at his elbow. He turned, and could not avoid 
a start when he recognized-Edmund Melton. 

“ Pardon me, Mr. Archer, but they took me. fairly off 
my feet ; won’t yorujoin us in a dance ? ” 

“ Thanks ; I hardly think I will do so this evening. 
It is quite late, and I have some letters to write. ” 

In the background Archer saw several ladies, evi- 
dently watching the result of the request. 

“We would be~pleased to have you,” said the youth ; 
“but of course business must be- attended to,” and he 
hurried off to join the ladies, whom he had doubtless 
been telling-about his-new friend. 

Josiah Archer folded and sealed his^ envelope, taking 
care that no one should catch -sight of the superscrip- 
tion. Dropping it in the letter-box, he lit a cigar and 
strolled out upon the front piazza, where he seated him- 
self in a rocking-chair and elevated his feet upon the 
railing. 

“ I wonder whether he saw anything I wrote? Was 
that invitation only an excuse for him to glance over 


60 


HONEST NED. 


my shoulder? Did ha suspect -anything when he saw 
me writing? It won’t do to tellrBlowitz this, episode, 
for he would say I ought to know better than to give 
any person a chance to. steal a word from a letter. It 
makes me uncomfortable, and confirms me more than 
ever in my suspicion. That young Melton is a sly 
one.” 

The following day brought one of those inspiriting 
scenes and -experiences which do so much to -render a 
person’s sojourn at the seaside healthful, invigorating, 
and delightful. Bathing hours were from half-past ten 
until one, and fully a hundred bathers were disporting 
themselves in the breakers off the pavilion. Between 
eleven and noon were what might be called the golden 
hours, and the fun was at its height. The bathing- 
master, in scant suit, with legs bare to the knees, and 
with a dilapidated straw hat, sat in the sand, keeping 
ward and watch over the -revelers, some of whom, in 
the wantonness of enjoyment, were ^venturing beyond 
the\danger stakes. He knew most of them as excel- 
lent swimmers ; but he knew, too, that most frequently 
from those very ones come those. who drown, since they 
presume too far upon their^ skill. 

There were laughing girls, who could not be per- 
suaded to venture beyond the edge of the water. 
There they stood, and shrieked when the waves tum- 
bled them about like corks, unable to believe that they 


HONEST NED. 


61 


had only to go a little farther out to lessen the rough- 
ness to which they were subjected. There were others 
again who, in their pretty suits, plunged boldly in, 
dove under the incoming wave, and swam out like the 
mermaids to where the ocean was comparatively still. 
One of them climbed upon the stake to which the end 
of a safety line was fastened. Then, after crouching 
like a pretty bird for a minute, she went off head-first, 
coming up twenty feet away, laughing and dashing 
water in the face of her^escort, who couldn’t swim half 
so well as she. 

And there were bulky.dowagers too, who looked so 
funny in their~suits that one could not help laughing. 
And the-elderly gentlemen, too, were there. They were 
among the most- timid, and ducked and puffed and 
blowed and convinced themselves that they wereenjoy- 
ing it immensely, -unsuspicious that the- spectators under 
their sunshades were getting a world oT amusement out 
of the exhibition. 

By and by two^wimmers^. began to attract attention. 
They had gone far-out beyond the .ropes, and acted as 
though thejrintended to make a trip to-Great Britain. 
They had the advantage of water which was smooth, 
except for the long, heaving swell which increased in 
height as it approached shallow water, and broke into 
foam and spray as it played havoc with the bathers 
nearer shore. 


62 


HONEST NED. 


“ That young Melton is the best swimmer I ever 
saw,” remarked the bathing-master to a friend at his 
side; “but he will catch it one of these days. Suppose 
he gets a cramp ?” 

“ He would turn over on his- back and float till he 
regained the-use of his limbs.” 

“ Maybe so and maybe not ; when a fellow feels the 
twinge in one leg and has it run all through him the 
next second, he loses his head, begins to struggle, and 
then it is alkover with him. Do you know who that 
man is -with him ? ” 

“No ; he came last night. My! he’s a -swimmer too.” 

“They are both- foolish ; they’re in water -fifty feet 
deep, and how could --help get to them if they should 
need it? ” 

“ They take the -risk in spite of all the warnings, and 
they must take the -consequences too.” 

“ That’s all 'well enough, but I don’t want any drown- 
ing cases -here this summer; we haven’t had any yet, 
and I wouldn’t- get over it in a year. That was a close 
call last Sunday.” 

“ What was that? ” 

“ A young man from the- Brunswick came down here 
after eating a big dinner and-filling up om-wine. Then, 
what did the fellow do but go up the- beach yonder, 
and plunge in where the waves are the -worst ! At the 
first clip over -he went. Nobody thought anything was 


HONEST NED. 


63 


wrong, when they saw him rolling about in the surf ; 
but when he didn’t get up and was being carried out to 
sea, everybody shouted that he was drowning. We got 
to him just in time tQ save him. Ugh ! I haven’t got 
over it yet.” 

“ Why, a man swam down from Ocean Grove the 
other day, and after resting a while swam back again. 
What do youdhink of that? ” 

“ He was a professional and was. one of ten thousand. 
I could do it, but a_ thousand dollars wouldn’t tempt 
me to try.” 

“ By George ! they’re having suchufun that I can’t 
stand it!” exclaimed the. friend of the bathing-master. 
“ I must take a- dip.” 

And dashing up the beach, he soon, emerged, clad in 
a bathing-suit, and ran out into the surf. He was one 
of the sensible ones, and, although a fair swimmer, did 
not go beyond, the ropes. He found plenty of enjoy- 
ment there, frolicking with the others and tumbling 
about, and turning heels over head without any risk to 
himself. 

The identity~of the two Jbathers, who were the cause 
of the-remarks just quoted, has already been- suspected 
by the.reader. The name oUone has been given. The 
other was-Josiah Archer, the-detective, who prided him- 
self on being one of the finest -swimmers anywhere. 
When he met Melton in the morning, the latterMnvited 


64 


HONEST NED. 


him to join him in a swim, and he eagerly did so. He 
said nothing about his skill, but resolved to give the 
athletic young man a test he had never known before. 

“ If he beats me^wimming, he has got to work hard 
— he will find that out,” he muttered, as he came down 
the inclined beach to the water. 

It took but a few minutes for him to discover that 
Melton was a- master of the natatorial art. He dove 
and disported himself like a porpoise, swimming far 
below the surface, turning somersaults, shooting for- 
ward on his back and then on his "side, and reveling 
in the very wantonness of healthy strength, and skill. 
But Archer gave an exhibition too which compelled 
the commendation of his companion. 

“There’s no need of your taking lessons,” he re- 
marked ; “ I shouldn’t be surprised if you had been in 
the water before.” 

“ I have once or twice ; let’s take a swim cut to-sea? ” 

“I am agreeable ; "-come on.” 

And they did so, making their way fully a- half-mile 
from shore. Melton, determined not to be the first to 
give up, would have kept on, but Archer, who had 
started with the same resolve, began ta think they were 
risking too. much, and proposed that they return. 

“ Very well ; you are not tired ? ” 

“ Not a bit, but what’s the. use ? We might have an 
accident.” 


HONEST NED. 


65 


“We’ll take it ^easy,” remarked Melton, swimming 
with the long, powerful, and yet deliberate stroke of 
the consummate swimmer. 

He was a little in advance of his companion, whom he 
could see only by^turning his head. Half the distance 
was passed, when a gurgling sound and a strange cry 
caused him to look over his shoulder. To his dismay, 
Archer was^nowhere in sight. At the same moment 
he saw people running about in great excitement on the 
beach and caught the., cry : — 

“ A man is drowning ! A man is drowning ! ” 


66 


HONEST NED. 


CHAPTER X. 

Several minutes having passed since Melton had 
looked round at his companion, it was impossible to tell 
where he hac^-gone down ; but he knew it-was not far 
behind him, and a-fittle to the-left. He turned at once 
and swam in that -direction, glancing- sharply on every 
hand for The drowning man to rise. A gurgling noise 
to one side accompanied the- reappearance of the head 
and face of the pooiHellow, who was struggling in that 
frantic, aimless fashion which people show when panic- 
smitten, and which only hastens death. His- counte- 
nance was distorted with agony, and it was evident 
he was wrenched through by that fearful scourge of 
swimmers, ^ the cramp. 

Melton shot toward him like a flash, and caught his 
hair as he was going down again, still struggling. 

“ Keep cool, Archer_L keep cool ! ” he shouted ; “stop 
trying to swim, and I’ll takexare of you.” 

Had this course been followed at the„moment the un- 
fortunate man was first ^seized it might have availed, 
but he was no longer^esponsible for what he did. The 
instant Melton caught him he threw both arms about 
his rescuer’s neck. Melton knew the frightful danger, 


HONEST NED. 


67 


and fought like a Jiger to free himself, but all his 
strength could nokunloose the fatal .grip. The drown- 
ing man went down again, and this time he_took his 
friend with him. But the youth kept hi&Jiead, even 
in that awful moment. He directed hisu- movements 
toward reaching the-surface, and he succeeded sooner 
than hegxpected. He had managed to get the arms of 
Archer from his neck while below ; but the fellow seized 
his left- wrist with a grip like a vise, and it could not 
be twisted loose. 

At the moment of reaching air the two were facing 
each other. Melton called to him .again to keep cool 
and remain jpassive, but it was useless; he began fight- 
ing desperately to seize his preserver in his embrace, 
and would have done so, but for the last*resort of the 
swimmer whengaught in such peril. Quickly drawing 
back his clinched fist, Melton let drive ^straight be- 
tween The eyes. The blow was delivered with all his 
strength, and did thejbusiness. Archer was stunned, 
and instantly became as Jimp as a rag. 

Freeing the imprisoned wrist, Melton fastened his 
hand in his Jhair, and holding the head above the water, 
began slowly swimming with his right arm and lower 
limbs toward shore. A long distance was before him, 
and the task was hard. He kept an eye upon his 
charge, ready, in case he renewed his— struggles, to 
strike him. again. The fellow partly opened hi&-eyes 


68 


HONEST NED. 


once or twice, and there was some twitching about the 
face, but he remained passive. 

By this time Melton gained a chance tojiote things 
on shore. The excitement was at its. height, and the 
bathing-master was furiously rowing in his boat toward 
them. The youth, therefore, did not waste his strength 
in trying to get forward fast; but it was as easy for 
him to progress slowly as to remain stationary, and he 
moved gradually toward the boat, which a few minutes 
later was at his side. 

“ He’s all- right,” remarked the youth, as dropping 
his oars the master leaned over and grasped the arm of 
the unconscious man; “hold him till I get in the boat 
to help you.” 

Grasping the gunwale, Melton climbed in without 
help, and then-seizing the other arm of the half-sense- 
less Archer, the sufferer was lifted over the side and 
placed carefully in the bottom of the boat. He was 
not so far gone as to need the usual measures for resus- 
citation. He looked about him in a bewildered way ; 
but when offered the whisky flask of the bathing-mas- 
ter he swallowed a deep draught, and became himself 
before the craft d>egan fighting its way through the 
breakers, where the willing hands of other bathers 
almost carried it ashore. 

Mr. Josiah Archer experienced severe -emotions. He 
was -humiliated to find -himself the ‘Tcynosure of all 


HONEST NED. 


69 


eyes,” as he was helped up tha beach to the bath-house, 
and to reflect that, in -trying to show off his skill in 
swimming, he had made an altogether^ bigger “show” 
than he-intended. 

Among the swarm on the beach was a medical-gentle- 
man, who, after an- examination of the detective, pro- 
nounced him all-right. He had ridden himself of the 
surplus water in the -"treasury of his ..stomach, and by 
the time he was dressed was able to walk back to the 
hotel without aid. 

Melton remained with him as long as there was the 
least likelihood of need, and was at his side when he 
returned to the Columbia. Mr. Archer was ..profuse in 
his thanks, for there could be no question that but for 
the help of the youth his life would have been lost. 
Edmund made light of his services. 

“ It might just as well have been the other way,” he 
said, “ though I have, never had the cramp.” 

“ Nor I either before to-day, but it came on me like 
a house afire. At first it felt as if a red-hot needle 
were thrust into my right leg below the knee. Like 
a flash it went all through that leg, which drew up 
against my body, and was paralyzed.” 

“ Why didn’t you call to me ? ” 

“ Partly because of a foolish pride, but more because 
I believed I could take care of myself. I made a move 
to turn on my back, so as to float, when the pain darted 


TO 


HONEST NED. 


through my left leg. Then I lost my head, and before 
I could make a respectable sound, down I went. After 
that everything was mixed, and a total blank followed 
that clip you gave me between the eyes.” 

U I struck as hard as I knew how,” said Edmund 
with a laugh. 

“It was the only thing to. do ; you must have been 
through such scenes before ? ” 

“ I have, once or twice, bat I never hit a .fellow be- 
fore except poor -Wash Fulmer at Coney Island; but I 
hope you don’t feel any ill-effects from the blow.” 

“ The only effect is that I am a living and breathing 
man at this moment.” 

It was singular that in making his fervent- response 
to the question, Archer did not forget his detective 
instincts. He noticed that when Melton mentioned 
the name of Wash Fulmer he- checked himself, as 
though it was a .slip of the tongue, and instantly 
changed the drift of his words. That of itself might 
have meant '•nothing, but for tho fact that he happened 
to know that the individual referred to was a 'fugitive 
from -justice at that - moment, and one_Tor whose detec- 
tion a large -reward was set. He was about the age of 
Melton, but was accused of a crim§ grave enough to 
send him to *8ing Sing for a long term. 

The thought that flashed through the brain of the 
officer was that this same. Fulmer wasAnvolved in £ome 


HONEST NED. 


71 


way in the disappearance of the. black diamond. ( Mel- 
ton’s manner confirmed the- thought. But it need not 
be said that nothing in the action of the -detective 
raised a .suspicion that he was thinking of anything 
except his own narrow., escape from drowning. 

Upon reaching the hotel he found himself such a 
general subject of interest, that he was glad to climb 
to his room and escape the looks and, inquiries, even 
though they wer& tempered with sympathy. 

“I feel like an overgrown, calf,” he growled, Avhen 
he reached his room, “ and I ought to have a^saucer of 
milk ..placed before me. Well, I have been a^jcalf and 
a lubber, and if it wasn’t for my business here, I’d take 
the first-train to New York. The papers will get hold 
of it, and I. wonder what Blowitz will say to-morrow 
when he reads thejiccount. He will think it necessary 
to send some one .down here to take care of me. Con- 
found it ! I haven’t any time to lose. I must get to 
work right away. I wish it had been somebody else 
than Melton that pulled me out of the water, for it 
does look rather mean to turn on your rescuer, and be 
the means of putting him in limbo; but business is 
business.” 

No doubt there are many who, if placed in the. situa- 
tion of Josiali Archer, would havo., withdrawn from the 
case rather than push his rescuer on to ruin. Duty 
might have urged them to go ahead, but gratitude 
would have prevented. 


72 


HONEST NED. 


“ Caesar, but he xan hit blow ! ” added the detec- 
tive, as a ringing pain _shot through his head ; “ he 
knocked me out in one round, or rather knocked me 
in, for where would I have been but for that same lifter 
between the eyes ? 

“ But, Josiah Archer,” he added, rousing up, “ this 
sentimentality won’t do. At this rate you’ll-fail ever 
to ‘ get there.’ There’s a big job for you ; you have a 
reputation to make, and must be up and doing.” 


HONEST NED. 


73 


CHAPTER XI. 

Detective Blowitz was anything but a. happy man 
after reading the telegram from his assistant at Ocean 
Beach. Although he half expected it, it annoyed him 
so that after .ascending to his room he sat until after 
midnight. smoking and thinking. Then, with a sigh, he 
went to bed and tossed about until near daybreak before 
closing his eyes. 

“ It has narrowed down to McFarlane and this young 
fellow in Jersey,” he said the. next morning as he sat 
at the table alone, for the famous, detective was a 
widower without children, “ and I shall know before 
noon whether McFarlane is in it-^~ Helloa! ” 

His eye had caught the item in the .paper that lay on 
the table at his side, — for reading and eating went to- 
gether with him, — which told of the~rescue of Mr. 
Josiah Archer by Edmund Melton. 

“ Confound it ! ” muttered the detective ; “ it’s get- 
ting worse and worse. Archer ought to. turn about and 
give him a tip of .what’s on foot and-.help him off ; I 
believe I would if in his place.” 

These were very unprofessional sentiments, but it 
must be remembered that Detective Blowitz was more 


74 


HONEST NED. 


human than some that make their living by the same 
means. He held such strong admiration for that boy 
that he would have gone to anyMengths to serve him, 
and here he found himself impelled by a jresistless fate 
to gather the net that was to disgrace and. ruin him 
forever. He felt no further interest in the news, but 
ate slowly and thoughtfully. His active brain was full 
of schemes, the ultimate object of which was the saving 
of the lad who, stood in such awful peril. The most 
feasible one, at first thought, was to go to Mr. Gum- 
bridge, state the f act, „ get him to help in suppressing 
further knowledge of the theft, and to join in saving 
his clerk. No doubt when Melton realized the enormity 
of his crime, and was -offered forgiveness on condition 
of restoring the diamond, he would be eager to do so. 

“ It would be the turning-point in his life ; it will 
any way,” added the detective gravely, “whichever 
way it ends.” 

The fatal objection to the jffan, as he well knew, was 
that Mr. Gumbridge would not be a partner to it. He 
had no patience with any form of dishonesty, and would 
never consent to compound a nrime. He judged from 
what he had heard of the boy’s guardian, Colonel 
Bainbridge, that he was equally w stern in his views. 
The next scheme was to go to Ocean Beach in disguise 
so that Archer would not know him, seek ouk-Melton, 
tell him that the crime was certain to be proved against 


HONEST NED. 


75 


him, get him to restore the diamond, and then persuade 
him to leave for the West. 

“ If he needs funds I’ll let him have them,” muttered 
the officer, banging his fork on the table. 

This was more unprofessional even than the thought 
expressed a few minutes before, for it involved action 
on his part. Profound as was his sympathy for the boy, 
however, the plan failed to please himself ; and by the 
time he had finished his morning meal and had lit his 
cigar, it was dismissed altogether. His next, attempt 
was to-formulate some plot by which the diamond could 
be recovered, and yet have Melton appear innocent. 

44 If I could get Jiim to_let me have it I mighty con- 
trive to drop.it in the safe when no one was looking, or 
I could slip it into Gumbridge’s pocket, where he would 
find it himself.” 

But reflection- convinced him that this would not do. 
The gentleman would never J>elieve that the gem could 
have disappeared in that style ; and the midnight visita- 
tion to the „s tore and the opening of the safe must still 
remain unexplained. Then, too, if it was dropped in the 
coat-pocket of the jeweler, more than likely he would 
lose it before finding it. 

Now, the discouraging feature of Detective Blowitz’s 
musing and scheming was that it was based on the the- 
ory that Edmund Melton was guilty. While he could 
not help believing so, he was not without hope that 


76 


HONEST NED. 


something, impossible as yet to imagine, might turn up 
to prove his innocence. He had forgotten a step that 
he ought to have taken before, and which was the first 
thing he now did after leaving his home. He went to 
the nearest telegraph-office, and sent a. message to a 
brother -professional in Philadelphia, asking him to 
ascertain of a certainty whether^R. Field McFarlane, 
who claimed to have been at the Continental Hotel two 
nights before, had actually stayed there. He knew the 
individual to whom it was. sent as one of the best offi- 
cers in the service, who would not- accept the mere 
presence of a man’s name on the register of a hotel as 
proof that he was^there or made it himself. McFarlane 
might have gone -thither, and returned on a late train, 
or some one may have written it for him ; it was ne- 
cessary to know of his actual -presence there up to 
midnight at least. 

Detective Blowitz returned to his house to wait for 
news, as all telegrams from Archer, or his Philadelphia 
friend, were to be directed to his residence, besides which 
he was expecting a letter from his assistant at the sea- 
shore. The letter reached him about noon, and the 
reader knows its purport. It did not specially_interest 
the detective, and he waited impatiently for the response 
from the neighboring city. That would be oL momen- 
tous significance. It came sooner than he anticipated, 
for it happened that Blowitz ’s telegram was promptly 


HONEST NED. 


77 


received by the very man of all others able to give him 
the information. Thus it. read : — 

“I was with McFarlane at a friend’s on Walnut Street till after 
eleven; went to the Continental with him; he retired at, twelve; no 
mistake about this. 11 

Detective Blowitz held the dispatch in his hand for 
several minutes, reading over the lines, and even look- 
ing on the back, as though he hoped to find some con- 
tradiction there. But, alas ! there was none ; and he 
sighed, and muttered his favorite, exclamation, “ Con- 
found it ! ” 

Still clinging to a hope so slender that he would have 
reproved a brother, professional for entertaining it, he 
lay back in his chair, puffed his ,cigar, and conjured up 
a myriad of things. The question that he turned over 
in his mind was whether McFarlane after all could be 
the guilty person, even though ninety miles away from 
the actual crime at the time of its commission. 

“ Fie may have had a trusted confederate, to whom 
he gave the signal and combination, and left him to do 
the job, while he reaped the biggest part of the reward. 
Then, too — but confound it ! how could he have ob- 
tained tho^combination to the safe ? ” 

He reflected that the call-signal might have been 
picked up in the manner suggested elsewhere, but it 
was impossible that the open “ sesame ” should have 
been acquired in that manner. 


78 


HONEST NED. 


“There are five persons who know the t combina- 
tion,” he continued, following the thread of his gloomy 
thoughts, — ~“ Mr. Shipman, at present in Europe, Mr. 
Gumbridge, and the three clerks, Gibbons, McCutch- 
eon, and Melton. No one of them could have given 
the combination to any . other person unless,, with a 
guilty .purpose. It all comes back to the conclusion 
from which there is no escaping ; young Melton is the 
criminal, -and if so he ought to suffer.” 

The officer uttered the last words savagely, as he was 
pacing up and down the room, and looked around with 
such a fierce, expression of countenance that the ser- 
vant, who was on the point of entering just then, shrank 
back and decided to await a more opportune season 
before disturbing her master. Suddenly he. caught up 
his paper and read again the account of Archer’s nar- 
row escape from death while bathing. 

“No,” he added,- resuming his walk more thought- 
fully; “he wasn’t drowned, so there’s no-hope there.” 

He was trying to rouse himself to a feeling of re- 
sentment against the youthful ^.culprit, but could not 
do so. The chords of sympathy for the orphan boy, 
with his stern guardian, and his own bright, sunny 
nature, were. stirred in spite of himself. 

“ He may be guilty, but I won’t believe it till it is 
proven or he confesses. If it isn’t proven, and he per- 
sists in denying it, confound me! if I don’t. devote the 


HONEST NED. 


79 


rest of my natural born days to establishing his inno- 
cence -^Helloa ! I wonder what’s-that ! ” 

It was the ring at his door bell Avhiclunaused him to 
stop short in his promenade and look inquiringly at 
the servant who answered the call. She quickly reap- 
peared, and handed him another yellow envelope with 
the Western Union mark on it. It was in cipher, 
which he read as easily as plain-English : — 

“ Will be up in the morning; I recovered the black diamond this 
afternoon. Akcheb.” 


80 


HONEST NED. 


CHAPTER XII. 

When Detective Blowitz read this telegram from 
his assistant, he steeled his heart against the tenderness 
that had been-creeping into it for the past twenty-four 
hours. He felt that the crime having been proven 
against the youth the time for mercy was past; and 
though he could not but regret the turn the affair had 
taken, justice must be done. 

He sent a dispatch to ^Archer, asking him to be at 
Mr. Gumbridge’s room at the Astor blouse on the mor- 
row, as near- ten o’clock as possible. Then, boarding a 
car, he rode down to the- hotel to look for the gentle- 
man himself. He was out, and had left no word when 
he would be back, so the officer had to content himself 
in the meanwhile as best he could. He had a note 
placed in the broker’s box, saying that he wished to see 
him on important business, and would return at eight 
o’clock. 

He went out because he had to keep moving. He 
walked a long distance, and despite the sultriness of the 
night did so at a rapid pace, reappearing at the hotel 
before the hour named by himself. He was- told that 
Mr. Gumbridge was in his room, and would be. glad to 


HONEST NED. 


81 


see him there. Ten minutes later the whole story was 
told to the employer of Edmund Melton. The gentle- 
man looked grave, but there was no faltering on his 
part. 

“ I am and I am not surprised,” he said, when- the 
recital was finished ; “ the turn of .eventg^pointed irre- 
sistibly to, Edmund, but I would as soon have, suspected 
myselLof the crime. Regrets, however, are-useless.” 

“ What about his guardian ? ” 

“ Colonel Bainbridge ? I believe he is «. in the 
country.” 

“ I mean to ask what do you think his~course will be 
when he learns the truth ? ” 

“ There can be no-doubt as to that,” returned Mr. 
Gumbridge with a mirthless smile ; “ he wilL cast him 
off, and be the most ardent in pressing his punish- 
ment.” 

“ The unfeeling -scoundrel ! ” exclaimed Detective 
Blowitz, “ to turn against his own blood and kin in that 
fashion.” 

“You have read of the Roman general who killed his 
own son for disobeying his orders, -even though it saved 
his army.”^s>^ 

“ Yes, I have read about those old fools, who are 
held up as models to this benighted nineteenth century. 
I want to hear no more of them. Archer has ruined a 
young man that saved his life, but,” said the detective 


82 


HONEST NED. 


with a sigh, “ I don’t suppose I ought to talk in this 
strain. I will be hero.- to-morrow at ten, if that suits 
you, to hear Archer’s report.” 

“ I will leave Gibbons to attend to theustore, and will 
meet you,” said the broker, as he shook the hand of his 
friend and bade him good-night. 

Detective Blowitz was in that ^desperate mood that 
he lost to some extent his usual calmness and mental 
poise. 

“ Confound it ! ” he exclaimed, wheeling about and 
starting for Courtlandt Street. “ I’ll go down to Ocean 
Beach to-night and find out. whether there isn’t some 
way of fixing this so as to. save that boy. I think a 
good plan will be to take Archer down to the ocean 
and<jdrown him, and then insist that Hdreamed I re- 
ceived his message.” 

When he ^reached the railway-office, however, he 
learned there were no more trains that night; and inas- 
much as a little inquiry developed that he could not 
reach the seaside in time to intercept his assistant, he 
gave it up, and walked all the way to his home in 
Thirty-fourth Street. 

The detective was at the-Astor House the following 
morning, according to-appointment, and the two gentle- 
men were smoking and trying hard to assume a cheer- 
fulness which -"neither felt. Both had passed a bad 
night ; for despite the cold, relentless principles of the 


HONEST NED. 


83 


diamond broker, he could not quench u, deep sympathy 
and tender regard for the handsome, manly lad, whom 
he would have been .proud to own as a son, that had 
now taken a, fatal step from which there was no recoil. 

And though Erastus Blowitz, who never had been a 
father, might steel his heart against everything except 
justice toward the splendid youth, he could not shut 
out a sadness that at times made him loathe the pro- 
fession that had been the means of dragging the boy 
into an abyss from which he could and ought to have 
been rescued. 

Promptly on time there was a gentle tap at the door, 
and Josiah Archer entered, smiling, and with hat in 
hand. When Detective BlowdtzJooked on his glowing 
face and noted the look of triumph, he could hardly 
repress his disgust. 

“ He is happy because he has done a good job, and 
doesn’t think of the noble, boy who saved his life, and 
who, if rightly, handled, could have been, rescued from 
a fate a thousand-fold worse than death. I suppose 
that if Archer had been drowned day before yesterday 
I would be called upon to mourn him, but I’m blessed 
if my tears wouldn’t have been crocodile ones.” 

The young detective shook- hands with the two 
gentlemen, and then backed to a chair, and sat down. 
He was nervous from exultation, and strove hard to 
repress the emotion that prompted him to swing his 


84 


HONEST NED. 


hat above his head and cheer himself for what he had 
done. 

“ It was rather curious,” said Mr. Gumbridge after 
the usual preliminaries, “that -Edmund should have 
been the one to -save you from drowning.” 

“Yes, so it „was, so it was,” replied Archer briskly; 
“I would.it had been different.” 

“ So do I,” interrupted Detective Blowitz dryly. 

“What do you mean?” demanded the young man, 
turning sharply on his superior. 

“I am simply-agreeing with you — that’s-all,” was 
the sarcastic-reply; “but go on and tell us about this 
brilliant exploit of yours.” 

Blowitz, within the five minutes succeeding the en- 
trance of his assistant, had decided upon a heroic 
course ; he would insist that, the,diamond having been 
recovered, no one besides the-three and the- lad himself 
should ever know the truth, and everything, possible 
should be done to-save Melton. 

But most unexpectedly the last resort was- saved 
him. 

“ Well,” replied Archer, still trying ta, repress his 
buoyancy of spirits to something befitting the sorrow- 
ful circumstances, “ there isn’t a great deal to tell. My 
sousing yesterday forenoon knocked me up pretty^well, 
and made me such an object of interest that I stayed 
within the hotel the rest of the day, so as to keep away 


HONEST NED. 


85 


from the inquiries that greeted me everywhere. I sat 
on the upper piazza alone, in a rocking-chair, smoking, 
and thinking hard over this case” 

“With a tiny thought now and then, I -suppose, of 
the young man who -pulled you out of the water?” 
suggested Blowitz. 

“ Of course,” assented Archer, with a doubting glance 
at his master but I remembered that you told me the 
cardinal rule of the detective’s life is that he should 
have noHieart, and that business must supersede all 
other considerations.” 

“ So I did — so I did ; for I always have been a fool, 
especially when I conceived there was any need of say- 
ing that to you; but go on, go on — ‘this is a most in- 
teresting story.” 

“ It happened that where I was sitting was directly 
in front of young Melton’s room, which opens on the 
piazza. You know in the summer season nearly every 
door and window are open in a seaside hotel. So it 
was the easiest thing in the world for me to step 
through the window, open his trunk with skeleton 
keys, and make a quick and thorough search.” 

“ Where was -Edmund at this time ? ” inquired Mr. 
Gumbridge ; and it was J>etective Blowitz who made 
quick reply, — 

“He was probably Jbusy -saving some other ingrate 
from drowning.” 


86 


HONEST NED. 


Archer’s face flushed, but he ignored the fling. 

“ In one corner of the trunk was a knotted handker- 
chief filled with pebbles, some of which had, no doubt, 
been gathered on the seashore.” 

“ Edmund always does that for his little cousin, 
Dottie Bainbridge, of whom he is very fond.” 

“ And in the center was the black diamond.” 

“ Have you got it with you ? ” 

“ I should say I have,” replied Archer, shoving one 
hand into his inner breast pocket ; “ and there she is! ” 

As he spoke he sprang to his feet, opened a, brown 
piece of paper, and, stepping forward,, laid it on the 
table in the middle of the room. Then retreating to 
his chair, he leaned back to enjoy hisjvictory, which he 
was certain would make his, fortune. Mr. Gumbridge 
rose and quickly walked to the .table, with Detective 
Blowitz at his side. Extending his hand he picked up 
the stone and held it between his. forefinger and thumb. 
As he did so, the expression of -amazement on his face 
gave way to infinite .disgust, and, looking at the ex- 
pectant detective, he thundered : — 

“And you call that a -diamond, do you? You 
idiot ! it is nothing but a worthless-pebble.” 

“ Confound it, but that’s too~Hch ! ” and Detective 
Blowitz almost fell to the_ floor with laughter, which 
was never more genuine in his life. 


Honest ned. 


87 


CHAPTER XIII. 

It was a scene worthy of the best efforts of a pho- 
tographer, who could have made a good thing of an 
instantaneous view. Detective Blowitz, after a look at 
the round, black pebble the size of a robin’s egg, leaned 
forward, slapped his knee, and then slowly walked back- 
ward, so doubled up with-mairth that he would have 
fallen to the floor, had he mot reached his chair in the 
nick- oL time. Dropping into that, and still shaking 
with merriment, he let his head fall back at a frightful 
risk of dislocating his neck, and continued his collapse 
of<jollity r barely able to gurgle, — 

“ Confound it L that’s too rich ! ” 

Mr. Gumbridge, his form at its full height, his head 
thrown back, with the pebble in front of him, between 
forefinger and thumb,- glowered at the astounded young 
man, and-demanded in a voice of thunder, r — 

“ And you call that a diamond, do you? You intol- 
erable idiot ! it is nothing but a worthless pebble ! ” 
And-dosiah Archer ! The^blow which Edmund Mel- 
ton gave hint between the eyes, when he was in the 
agon}^ of drowning, was not more-stupefying than that 
which hitdiim now. He sat dazed for a moment or two, 


88 


HONEST NED. 


his lower jaw drooping, his eyes bulging, and his voice 
mute. Then he staggered to his feet, stepped unstead- 
ily to the table, and gaping at the indignant broker, 
faltered, — 

“ Wh - wh - wh - what did you say ? ” 

Gumbridge was boiling witb rage to that extent that 
he hardly dared trust himself to speak for a few seconds ; 
and all the time there came a chuckling sound, like that 
of some gibbering imp, from Detective Blowitz’s chair, 
where that gentleman was alternately letting his head 
go as far back as possible over the top of his support, 
and then snap forward, after the so-called graceful 
style of a famous dancer. Accompanying this perform- 
ance was a violent slapping of one knee with his hand, 
an earthquake of laughter, and an extension oT mouth 
that no minstrel could ever hope to-excel. Clearly the 
famous detective had just heard the best joke of his life. 
He tried to speak several times, but had to give it up. 
Finally, he deliberately flung his hat on the floor, 
stamped one foot in it, and shook his head from side 
to side, as if flinging the moisture from his locks. 

“ Humph ! ” snorted Mr. Gumbridge, “ have you ever 
seen a diamond ? ” 

“ Of course Dhave,” replied Archer, whose quick re- 
covery of himself was due mostly to the exasperating 
mirth of Blowitz ; “but I never-saw ar black diamond.” 

“ And x never -will.” 


HONEST NED. 


89 


“ What’s the. matter with that ? ” demanded the young 
detective, growing angry and very red in the face, as he 
realized the situation in which he had placed himself. 

44 What’s the matter with- that ? ” repeated Mr. Gum- 
bridge, as he flung it- contemptuously on the floor, 
44 nothing, except that it is no more a diamond than you 
are a man oi sense. After this poor boy had saved you 
from drowning, you sneaked into his room, unlocked his 
trunk, and stole a pebble that he had picked up on the 
seashore to give to his little cousin. You ought to be 
put in jail foi^ sneak-thieving, for-Edmund Melton is no 
more a thief than I am.” 

Detective Bio witz’s merriment subsided like a flash, 
and bounding across the room, he impetuously ex- 
tended his hand-toward the speaker. 

44 Shake, shake ! I’m with-you on that ! ” 

The two clasped hands and looked into each other’s 
eyes. Then, without the trace of a smile on the face of 
either, they turned toward Archer, who was standing 
on the other side of the table, growing madder and 
madder, as the broker approached better humor. 

44 I’d like to- know,” said he, 44 what there is so funny 
in such a_mistake as that ” — 

44 You haven’t seen me laugh, have you?” asked the 
jeweler, in a much:, calmer tone than he had used just 
before. 

44 No ; but Blowitz nearly-burst his sides — 


90 


HONEST NED. 


“ Josiah, my good but verdant friend,” interrupted 
the detective pleadingly, “ don’t refer to it or I shall be 
off' again, and another such spell as that will be the 
death of me. Hew close to the- line of your discourse, 
but-spare me, oh, spare me ! ” 

Now, it is only fair to say that the mistake of Detec- 
tive Archer was not such a .strange one after all. If 
any of my readers should ever see a black diamond in 
the rough, that is,' before it is cut and polished, — he 
would be quite apt ter pronounce it a pebble, for the re- 
semblance is^close. One of those gems, displayed some 
years ago in New York, looked for all the world like 
an ordinary stone, except that a small part on one side 
was polished to show the true nature of the diamond. 
When Archer opened the trunk of young Melton and 
saw the inky pebble, a misgiving as to its character 
never entered his mind. He had already decided that 
the youth was? guilty ; and when one starts with that 
theory, he is apt to find that subsequent discoveries and 
facts appear to- fit it wondrously- close. He had not 
been- -told that the diamond was cut and polished, 
and the pebble was about the size of the gem when in 
its natural state. Hence, I say, his error was excusable 
when all the-circumstances are remembered. 

“ Josiah,” said Detective Blowitz, laying his hand on 
his shoulder, and speaking with the gravity of a judge, 
“ take my advice and adopt the^profession of diamond 
expert ; it will pay youdbetter.” 


HONEST NED. 


91 


“ You are only jealous because you thought I had 
beaten you/’ retorted the young man with flaming face ; 
“ and as for you, Mr. Gumbridge, you want to- cheat 
me out of the reward for my discovery.” 

“ I’m afraid,. Gumbridge, he has got it down fine on 
us,” said Detective Blowitz, looking reproachfully at 
the broker. 

44 I’m afraid so, but I wilLfix it.” 

The gentleman’s good-nature had come back to him. 
Stepping to the other side of the room, he picked up 
the-pebble from the floor, came back, and extended it to 
Archer. 

44 Allow me to present you with the -black diamond 
which you have so brilliantly discovered. Your skill 
and faithfulness shall not go unrewarded.” 

With one angry sweep of his hand, the young man 
sent the pebble spinning across the room. 44 You may 
go to -blazes for all I care, both of you ! ” he exclaimed, 
wheeling about and dashing out. He slammed the 
door after him by way of emphasis to his words, and 
strode angrily down the hall-stairs. Mr. Blowitz- has 
not metrdiim since; but from some inquiries he made 
a few months afterward, he learned that the aspir- 
ing young detective had taken up the calling of life- 
insurance solicitor, and was doing quite well. 

44 Well, isn’t that a go ? ” said the detective after the 
man passed out and he and his friend had resumed their 


92 


HONEST NED. 


seats. “It is the most absurd thing I ever heard of, 
but I am glad.” 

“ So am I,” was the hearty response. 

Truth to tell, a crushing weight had been lifted from 
the heart of each, and the rebound was too great for 
either to conceal it. They had settled- themselves in 
the Jbelief that Melton was- guilty ; and the sudden dis- 
covery that he was not, or at least that he had not yet 
been proven so, was a respite from anguish. 

But now, when they came to talk calmly over the 
situation, a painful feeling returned taboth ; for, while 
the question remained, unsettled, suspicion still pointed 
strongly toward the youth. The other clerks had 
cleared their skirts, but it could not be denied that 
Melton had spent the night of the robbery in New 
York. 

“It looks strange that he did n ok stay at his own 
home, and it is^queer that he visited the-city when he 
must find the-«eashore so enjoyable.” 

“ All he has to do is to make known the reason of his 
visit, and prove-where he was at midnight. Certainly 
there can be no difficulty in that.” 

“ I hope not; but, Gumbridge, suppose he cannot.” 

“ For Heaven’s sake, don’t hint such propositions,” 
protested the broker impatiently ; “ I have suffered 
enough already. Time enough when we are compelled 
to face it.” 


HONEST NED. 


93 


“ Still, I am afraid it must come to.that. If it should 
be proven that he has done this thing, Gumbridge, we 
must-save him.” 

44 How?” 

“Let him restore the gem, promise never again to 
yield to- temptation of that sort, and we’ll keep his 
secret for him. You can tell McFarlane, and any one 
else who knows of the loss, that you found it where 
you didn’t expect to, and that will be the end of it.” 

44 I have never compromised a thing of this kind.” 

“ Because you never, had the chance ; if you count 
upon my help, you can have- it only on this-condition.” 

“I agree to it; the saving of a humair soul from 
death is worth more than all the diamonds from the 
mines of Golconda and Kimberley.” 

“Your sentiments do you credit; and now, Gum- 
bridge, I shall take the next train for Ocean Beach.” 

44 God be- with you ! ” was the fervent parting of the 
jeweler as the two shook hands. 

That same afternoon Detective Blowitz registered at 
the Hotel Columbia, Ocean Beach, (now Belmar). 


94 


HONEST NED. 


CHAPTER XIV. 

The sultry August afternoon was drawing to a close, 
and the Pennsylvania, the Central, and the New Jersey 
southern trains, as they glided along the seashore rail- 
way so^lose that they were most -always in- sight of 
each- other, were crowded with passengers eager to 
escape the smothering heat of the metropolis, and 
reach a place where the cool breezes of the ocean bring 
rest, refreshment, vigor, and new life to the jaded 
frame. 

On the long, upper piazza of the Columbia House, 
facing the avenue, but still in full view of the Atlantic, 
and open to its delightful breath, sat two persons. 
They were far down the piazza, close together, and 
spoke in low tones, so that no one could possibly over- 
hear a single- word uttered. One was Detective 
Blowitz, who, as was his favorite custom, leaned back 
with his feet crossed on the railing in front. The other 
at his side was -Edmund Melton, whose shapely feet 
rested on the floor, and who listened with deep interest 
to thejwords of hi& new acquaintance. 

Detective Blowitz had carried out his purpose of 
going to Ocean Beach and seeking out the young man. 


HONEST NED. 


95 


His heart warmed to him at once ; for he was his very- 
ideal of a boy, manly, bright, handsome, and modest 
to a degree. There was not a- person at the seaside 
who had ever met him who did not- like him. He had 
played a match game of ball that afternoon, against a 
club at Spring Lake, composed of several ex-profes- 
sionals ; and it was conceded by all that it was his 
superior work that won the contest, while three of the 
four runs which did the business were made by him. 
He had refused to allow a photographer to take his 
picture, because some one told him it was to be used 
in an illustrated paper, and he pleasantly but firmly 
declined to talk with the reporters, who wanted the 
particulars of his exploit of the day before. 

When Detective Blowitz approached and requested 
a private talk, he asked with a smile, — 

“ Is it about that little affair of yesterday ? ” 

“No; upon an altogether— different matter; I’ll 
promise you to make no- reference to it.” 

“ Very well, then I am at your^service ; ” and the two 
made their way to the topmost piazza, and seated them- 
selves in the secluded spot as I have described. 

Detective Blowitz first- told how the black diamond 
had been taken from the.safe of Shipman & Gumbridge 
two nights before, and how rigid investigation cleared 
Gibbons and McCutcheon from all suspicion. 

“That brings matters to this point,” continued the 


96 


HONEST NED. 


officer, speaking softly, but with the utmost-kindness 
of tone ; ^ suspicion is-directed toward you.” 

“ And why ? ” asked Melton, swallowing a lump that 
came in his throat, and holding his, nerves under 
control. 

“ You were in-New York that night, you did not stay 
at your, own home, and you are -one of the only five 
living persons -who possess the-combination to the safe 
in which the black diamond was locked.” 

“ How do you know I did not stay at my uncle’s ? ” 
asked the lad, whose face had grown slightly pale, but 
who looked unfalteringly in that of the detective. 

“Inquiry was made at your home, and the servants 
in charge said you had not been there since you left 
for this place.” 

“That is the fact; I have-not. I was in New York 
that night, and I may have to go^ again to-morrow ; 
but that has nothing to do with my -regular business 
there.” 

Detective Blowitz was quick to catch the last sen- 
tences, which contained an^ intimation that he would 
visit the metropolis the next day on the same business 
that took him thither two days before. 

“ You cannot fail to see how bad the case looks for 
you, my dear boy. Mr. Gumbridge is as deeply in- 
terested and moved as I am. I have lived longer than 
you, and know what-- temptations often assail those in 






Detective Blowitz saw before him a middle aged lady. 

Page 149 



HONEST NED. 


97 


yomvsituation. Although I have never seen you until 
this afternoon, I hope you will -consider me a friend, 
and believe me when I assure you there is nothing in 
my power that I will not gladly do to save you from 
this threatened ruin. Mr. Gumbridge and I are the 
only ones Jbesides yourself who need- know the truth; 
and if you show the proper, spirit, we will help you/’ — 
Stop ! ” commanded Melton, showing excitement 
for the first time ; “ your words show that you think 
I am thu one whew took the diamond.” 

“ How can I help believing it? How can Mr. Gum- 
bridge fail to believe it? Do you?* deny it? ” 

“ Ddo ; I have never looked upon the black diamond 
since the last day I spent in the store over a week ago. 
It is strange that for the first time in my life I should 
be accused of a crime which I would no more commit 
than that of murder.” 

These were brave words, and Detective Blowitz was 
glad to hear them; but the matter was by no means 
finished. 

u No one hopes more fervently than I that you can 
prove what you say. All that you have to do is to tell 
where youspent that eventful night. That shown, and 
the painful business is ended, so far as you are con- 
cerned.” 

To the intense disappointment of the gentleman the 
boy remained silent for two or three minutes. What 


98 


HONEST NED. 


would not the detective have given to know what was 
passing in his mind? Ah, if he had but-known ! 

“ I beg you, not to- hesitate,” said the detective in the 
kindest of tones; “believe me your- friend, anxious to 
help you : whatever you may-choose to make known 
will be-Teceived in the strictest confidence.” 

“ I would like to tell you where I spent the night,” 
finally said the youth in a low voice, “but I cannot.” 

“ Think-twice before you refuse. I know how prone 
lads of your age are to indulge in little escapades which 
naturally they do not wish known ; I have charity for 
such ; and I will-promise you that neither Mr. Gum- 
bridge nor Colonel Bainbridge shall learn anything 
about it from me.” 

“ I appreciate your offer and your promise ; but I can- 
not- tell you, not on account of myself, but because of 
another.” 

What did thi& mean ? The detective was- mystified, 
but unwilling to give up the-task he had set for him- 
self. The lad’s fate was hanging in the balance, and 
he alone could decide whether it should be for weal 
or woe. 

“I cannot conceive of any reason strong enough to 
justify you im refusing what I ask. A false pride in a 
matter which can be of no importance impels you to 
keep your lips-G.losed, when by-speaking you can save 
yourself from shame and your friends from disgrace. 


HONEST NED. 


99 


Nay, you have the choice oi ruin or salvation ; and if 
you choose the former you have no one to blame but 
yourself.” 

Again young Melton wa& silent for some time. He 
sat motionless, looking off at the foam of the breakers 
and the happy swarms of people sauntering to and fro 
on the plank walk, lolling in the sand, or grouped under 
the shade of the pavilion. He was deeply, pondering 
one of the most- momentous questions that had ever 
been forced, upon him. 

Detective Blowitz prayed that he might reach the 
right decision. Perhaps he did, but it was not what 
the gentleman so ardently desired. 

He held his peace and puffed his cigar; for he was 
unable to add anything to the words just spoken. 

“ Mr. Blowitz,” said he in a low voice, in which 
there was just the suspicion of a tremor, 44 1 thank you 
for what you have said, but I refuse absolutely to tell 
you where I passed that-night, until — until a certain 
expected-event takes place. If that event doesn’t take 
place, I shall neveivtell you; if it does, I will speak, 
but it is useless to press me : I refuse, and am- ready to 
take the^consequences. If you wish it I will go back 
to New York with you 'this evening, and submit to 
arrest, without- making you any^ trouble over a requisi- 
tion, or whatever might be necessary if I declined to 
go except by such means.” 


100 


HONEST NED. 


“No ; stay here and finish your vacation : I hope you 
will enjoy it and come out of the fire unscathed. Your 
decision is final ? ” 

“It is.” 

“ Then I must bid you good-day.” 

They shook hands, and Detective Blowitz was back 
in New York that same evening. 


HONEST NED. 


101 


CHAPTER XV. 

Detective Blowitz did not call on his friend Gum- 
bridge that night, but left him a note at the Astor 
House, saying that he had seen young Melton, who 
strenuously denied the imputed crime, but his explana- 
tions were not wholly satisfactory. He begged the 
diamond broker to make no move and say nothing to 
any one else for a few days, or at least until he heard 
further from him. 

“ The young man dropped a- sentence or two,” re- 
flected the officer as he made his way homeward, “ which 
may prove important. He said he might have -to visit 
the city to-morrow on the same business that took him 
there the other day. Very well ; if he does, I shall 
keep track of him.” 

Among the loungers at Courtlandt Street and the ad- 
joining ferries the next day, was a man with a' jet-black 
mustache, that evidently was dyed, for his hair was of 
auburn tinge, and with a sporting outfit that gq-ve him 
the appearance of one waiting to see a friend going to 
or coming from the Monmouth races. Few, indeed, 
would have suspected the individual to be Detective 
Blowitz ; but it was he.^ He had little idle time on his 


102 


HONEST NED. 


hands ; for, as you doubtless know, there are three land- 
ing-places for passengers coming from the New Jersey 
seaside resorts. One is the Pennsylvania, at the foot 
of Courtlandt Street ; while that of the Central Railway 
adjoins, and the New Jersey Southern is just beyond, 
at the foot of Rector Street. 

By moving very lively, the detective was able to be at 
each of these in turn, and gain a look at the incoming 
passengers. It kept him swinging back and forth like 
an animated pendulum ; and twice he narrowly missed 
making thorough work, since the Southern and Penn- 
sylvania landed two train-loads almost simultaneously. 
It was not until the afternoon was half gone that suc- 
cess crowned hi& vigilance. The arrivals at that hour 
were few, for the bulk of the travel from the seaside is 
citywards in the morning, and in the opposite direction 
in the afternoon and evening ; but among the score or 
more of passengers that came stringing out of the ferry- 
house, and began picking their way across the eternally 
crowded West Street, was <Edmund Melton, as hand- 
some, manly, and attractive as ever. He had no bag- 
gage with him, so that the watcher concluded he meant 
to make only a brief- stay in the city. 

The detective thought the face of the lad was. paler 
than usual ; but the sun had so bronzed him that it was 
hard to decide that important question. There could 
be no doubt, however, that he was -wide' awake and on 


HONEST NED. 


103 


the alert. He glanced furtively to the right and left, 
and cast a scrutinizing glance in the face of every man 
he met, as if suspicious of him, or as though he were 
looking for- some one. 

“ He fears being shadowed,” thought Blowitz ; “ it 
doesn’t look well for him, and I shall see that he doesn’t 
elude me.” 

Melton fell in behind the endless procession, and 
walked briskly up Courtlandt Street toward Broadway. 
He halted at the corner, and looked searchingly about 
him again. 

“ He isn’t neglecting any precaution ; lie’s a sharp 
one.” 

Apparently everything was satisfactory, and the lad 
crossed Broadway, walked by the Herald building, and 
kept on in the direction of the Brooklyn Bridge and the 
Third Avenue Elevated Railway. Blowitz stuck close 
at his heels ; for a few seconds are sometimes enough to 
shut one out from catching a car on either of these 
structures. In another place it might be safe to drop 
farther to the rear, but not there. 

The haste, however, was unnecessary. After deposit- 
ing his ticket in the box of the elevated, both Melton 
and Blowitz were obliged to wait several minutes before 
their train pulled out and started up-town. During the 
interval that the lad was on the platform, he scrutinized 
those standing and passing him, and among them the 


104 


HONEST NED. 


detective, who assumed a nonchalance which- disarmed 
any suspicion Melton may have otherwisejelt. Blowitz 
sat down a short distance from his man, and occupied 
himself apparently with admiring the scenery of the 
Bowery, as they were whirled along its picturesque 
length. Not once did he look directly at the youth, 
but he took care to keep him within his. field offvision. 

At Houston Street Edmund was among the half- 
dozen in his car who left the train. The officer was a 
few paces behind him, and began- descending the stairs 
while the lad was going down the lower steps. Instead 
of starting off at once, Melton’s actions- showed that he 
was expecting some one to-meet him at that crowded 
place. He stood several minutes looking up and down 
the cross streets, and then strolled aimlessly up-town ; 
going but a short way when he turned about and came 
back in the same\indolent fashion. He was not kept 
waiting long. A young -man made his way carefully 
across the avenue, apparently coming from Broadway. 
He walked with the help of arcane, and evidently was 
quite weak, as though recovering from illness. 

“Ahrha,” though the detective, as he- recognized 
James McCutcheon^lerk for Shipman & Gumbridge, 
“ he isdn it too ! ” 

The instant Melton caught sight of him, he hurried 
forward, and the two met within ~six feet of where 
Detective Blowitz - stood, as if waiting for a- down- 


HONEST NED. 


105 


town car. He was able to overhear their greeting 
and a few words more. 

44 How do you feel, Jim ? ” 

44 A good deal better, thank you ; there’s no need of 
asking you, for you are always the picture of rugged 
health.” 

44 Yes, thank Providence ; I am favored that way, but 
this is a bad break in my vacation.” 

44 What do you mean?” 

44 Didn’t you know I arm-accused of taking the^black 
diamond? I am, and a detective visited me at Ocean 
Beach to try to get me to confess.” 

44 You don’t say ! ” exclaimed the other in pained sur- 
prise ; 44 but you were able to satisfy him of course that 
he was wrong.” 

44 There’s just the trouble ; I couldn’t do it ; but come, 
I’m afraid we’ll be late, and we can talk on the way.” 

The two turned to the east up Houston Street, and 
walked slowly side by side. 

Blowitz would have been only too glad to keep near 
enough to overhear their conversation, but he dared 
not risk it. The moment suspicion was directed toward 
him, the game would be up. The wise detective knows 
just how far to go, and when to stop. A trifle too 
much ardor on the part of these gentry has spoiled more 
than one case. Besides, be reflected, the lads were going 
toward some place, which, of itself, was certain to give 


106 


HONEST NED. 


the clew he was seeking. All he had to do for the 
present, was to keep them withim sight, and interesting 
developments must-follow. 

Accordingly he dropped back and allowed them to 
get far enough iiv advance for a-number of- people to 
keep continuallyT>etween, several of whom were going 
in the same direction. Most of these passed the couple, 
because Melton graduated his pace to suit that of his 
invalid friend. 

But sharp as was Edmund Melton, hi& companion 
McCutcheon was sharper, at least on this occasion. He 
had noted the sporting - looking man with the dyed 
mustache and auburn hair who stood near them when 
they met under the elevated railway, and who seemed 
anxious to catch a -down-town car, but, instead of do- 
ing so, turned and strolled after them. Glancing back, 
McCutcheon discovered that he was^ still behind them, 
and he made known his -suspicions to Melton. The 
latter took a glance at him, and said in an excited 
undertone, — 

“ I saw that^man at the Courtlandt-street Ferry and 
the down-town station, where I got on.” 

“ He’s a detective that is-shadowing you ,* it won’t do 
for us to go any farther.” 

“I must go, Jim ; you know it: but I believe I can 
manage to give him the slip.” 

u We’ll have to .separate, for I can’t do any dodging 
or running till I am stronger.” 


HONEST NED. 


107 


“ All right ; keep on for a little way, and I’ll turn 
back. He won’t fool me ; I’ll -telegraph you, if 
necessary.” 

Detective Blowitz was quick to see that something 
was -wrong; and when he observed Melton walking 
briskly toward him, he was nonplussed for the moment. 
It would not do for him to turn at once, so he crossed 
the street and walked a few rods before facing about. 

Melton was going fast, and evidently for the station 
of the elevated railway. Blowitz. hastened his own 
pace ; but he was still some distance away when he saw 
the young man going like a shot up the steps. Luck 
was with the lad just then. A train was starting up 
town as he dashed through the gate, and he was just in 
time to catch it, while Detective Blowitz, much to his 
chagrin, was just in time to.be toa late to do the same. 


108 


HONEST NED. 


CHAPTER XVI. 

Meanwhile, an- extraordinary things happened to 
Mr. Wilton Gumbridge, junior partner in the wealthy 
diamond and jewelry establishment of Shipman & 
Gumbridge. 

Enough has been told to_show that he was as much 
wrought up over the turn of events as was Detective 
Blowitz. It may be no special credit to him to say that 
he would have been -glad to lose the value of the black 
diamond several times over, if by that means he could 
establish the innocence of Edmund Melton, whom he 
loved as a son. He pondered long in his room at the 
Astor House over the note received from Detective 
Blowitz. He read it again and again, and was struck 
with the fact that the lad had strenuously denied hav- 
ing, taken the stone. 

“ To me,” he said, “ that constitutes the strongest 
proof of his innocence; for I never knew boy who 
scorned a falsehood as does he. He may have imbibed 
it from his uncle, who was a West Pointer, where they 
teach that lying and stealing are two unpardonable 
crimes ; but more likely he inherited it from his mother, 
one of the noblest women I ever knew. I have said 


HONEST NED. 


109 


that I didn’t believe Edmund would tell a deliberate 
lie to save his life, and I believed it until ” — 

He hesitated, unwilling to confess that a doubt had 
crept into his. mind. 

“ I suppose any one would say that when a man 
steals, he will lie to save himself ; and it may be that if 
the poor boy resolved on this- crime, he resolved to 
brave it out to the end, and of course that can be done 
only by a continuous course of deception.” 

Conjure his brains as he might, the only possible ex- 
planation he could make (and oh, how flimsy that 
was !) was that -either he or one of his clerks had acci- 
dentally given the combination to-some one who had 
availed himself of this- means to secure the black 
diamond. 

“ Is it possible ? Much as I would like to believe it, 
I must confess that I cannot. We have four letters, 
x, c, v, and b, thereby differing from the usual practice 
of our neighbors with their numerals. I have never 
written them on a piece of paper, and have forbidden 
the boys ever to do -so. The way we-remember them is 
by’taking the letter x as it occurs on our Remington 
typewriter, and then the next three at the right. 
There’s our- combi nation. 

“ What chance is there of any one figuring out that 
they are the -right ones? Gibbons undertook to make 
the calculation once; but when he found it was running 


110 


HONEST NED. 


into the millions, and heavens knows how much farther, 
and that it would take an active man thousands of 
years, working night and day, he gave it up. 

“ I never heard of even three letters or figures being 
discovered by experiment, so there’s no consolation in 
that direction,” added the broker with a sigh. “ I con- 
fess I am at my wits’ end.” 

Restless and uneasy, he descended the elevator, and 
strolled up Broadway. He was disposed to call on 
Detective Blowitz; but since that gentleman had not 
invited him to do so, he was too sensitive to intrude. 
The probability, too, was that the detective was off on 
business connected with the missing diamond. 

When Mr. Gumbridge reached the hotel it was late, 
and he saw that half a dozen -letters were in his box. 
He took the package without glancing at the super- 
scriptions, and, shoving them into his coat pocket, 
sauntered to the elevator, intending to read them in 
his room. On his way down Broadway a strange 
fancy had come into his brain, one which h& hoped 
might solve the whole mystery. He asked himself 
whether he could have left his room at midnight and 
gone to the store, opened the safe, and brought away 
the gem? Such somnambulistic feats have been per- 
formed before, when the most amazed individual was 
the actor himself on learning the truth. 

“I have never heard that I was addicted to sleep- 


HONEST NED. 


Ill 


walking when a child, and I recall nothing of the kind 
since. Now, it would be a funny thing if it should 
turn out that I was tlie^Scoundrel who robbed my safe.” 

He smiled at the thought, and continued, — 

“ If I stole it, where the mischief have I hidden it ? 
If I am a first-class- thief, what business have I to 
accuse others ? Why am I not arrested and railroaded 
to Sing Sing ? ” 

This light mood speedily passed off. When in the 
elevator, he asked of the boy who it was that was 
on duty two nights before between ten and morning. 
The lad reflected a moment, and then said ,- 44 Jim.” 

44 Where is he now ? ” 

44 It’s his turn, and he goes on again to-night at ten.” 

The gentleman handed the lad a half-dollar. 

44 When he comes, send him to my room, and run the 
elevator for him till I am through with him. I won’t 
keep him more than ten minutes.” 

The boy was glad to promise ; for it then lacked only 
a few minutes of the hour for Jim to assume charge of 
the elevator, and he expected to see him when he de- 
scended to the lower floor. 

Shortly after Mr. Gumbridge entered his room and 
threw himself in his easy-chair there was a timid knock 
on his door. 

44 Come in ! ” he called ; and the elevator boy, whom 
he knew very well, smilingly entered, hat in hand, and 


112 


HONEST NED. 


stood waiting the pleasure of the gentleman who was 
always so ready to remember him and his fellows in the 
way of tips. 

“Jim,” said the broker pleasantly, “you have a 
pretty good memory I believe, and I am not going to 
tax it very hard, but I want you to be sure you are 
right. Perhaps this will help you.” 

And he handed him a half-dollar. Jim grinned more 
than ever, and said, — 

“ I’m always glad to do my best for you, Mr. Gum- 
bridge.” , 

“ I want you to'remember two nights ago.” 

“ That’s T uesday night ; yes, sir : I ran the elevator 
that night.” 

“ Do you remember my going up with you ? ” 

“Yes, sir; it was shortly after ten o’clock when I 
went on duty.” 

“ Do you remember my- coming down again an hour 
or two later? ” 

Jim’s eyes opened to their widest extent. 

“You didn’t go down with-me, sir.” 

“Think hard, now, for I don’t want any mistake 
made ; I am not sure, but I have an impression, that I 
went down with you some time- after, and did not go 
up until after midnight. 

“ I couldn’t go up and down with you without your 
remembering it ? ” 


HONEST NED. 


113 


“ No sir; no oner couldn’t do that.” 

“Then you remember my second trip on Tuesday 
night ? ” 

“No, sir. Mr. Gumbridge, you didn’t come down- 
stairs in the elevator or go up with me -that night after 
the first time, which was just after I took charge.” 

“ That’s all ; thanks, and you ma}^ go.” 

“That last refuge is-gone,” sighed the gentleman 
when alone. “ Of course if I was a^soinnambulist I 
might have used the stairs, but I didn’t. It wasn’t 
I who- stole the black diamond. 

“ I declare ! I forgot that I had a number of letters 
to read.” 

And he thrust in his hand and drew several forth. 
Only his personal mail was sent to the hotel, and of 
course he was interested im everything that thus 
reached him. The first letter he opened was from his 
wife, who, with the* children, was absent in the country. 
He was glad to learn that all were well, and anxious 
for Saturday night to come, when he would be with 
them over Sunday. Another scrawl was from his little 
daughter ; and he smiled with happiness and gratitude 
when he spelled out the almost illegible words, breath- 
ing such sweet affection and love that the tears came 
to his eyes. 

There were others, which it is not necessary to refer 
to, as they could be of no interest to the reader. But 


114 


HONEST NED. 


the extraordinary thing which I referred to at the 
opening of this chapter was that there was one letter 
which Mr. Gumbridge did not read**" In drawing the 
package from his pocket, the missive slipped to the 
floor unnoticed, falling under the chair, where he did 
not observe it when preparing for bed. It was still 
unseen when he left his room in the morning for his 
store. The chambermaid flung it, with the newspapers 
which lay on the floor, into the waste-basket, and it was 
carried out and emptied, as is the- custom, into the 
receptacle in the hall, and afterward^burned. ? 

Had that letter been read by the broker, I should be 
spared the telling of what~followed. On such seem- 
ingly slight incidents does our fate often turn! 


HONEST NED. 


115 


CHAPTER XVII. 

The wise detective, no matter how skillful, must 
always be prepared foi> defeat, at the very moment, per- 
haps, when he is most confident of< success. Where 
brains, experience, and mental acuteness are pitted 
against him, it would be strange, indeed, if he did not 
sometimes fail. Were it otherwise, crime would not 
dare array, itself against the law. 

Detective Blowitz had been cleverly fooled in his 
effort to shadow Edmund Melton, and he could not 
deny it. But he was a philosopher, and made the best 
of it. 

“ I slipped this time, my young friend,” he mused, 
“ but I am not through with you yet, and I’ll get there 
all the same.” 

He wanted no further proof that it would not do for 
him to attempt anything farther in that line in his 
present guise. Whatever further shadowing of the lad 
was essayed must be in a different character altogether. 
Accordingly, he boarded the first up-town train that 
came along, went to his own home, ate his dinner, and, 
as there was considerable of daylight remaining, he 
made a working-man of himself. That is to say, when 


116 


HONEST. NED. 


he came forth he was in the dress of a common laborer. 
It was a character which he . assumed on special occa- 
sions only ; but it was one of his most successful ones. 
He had never failed to mislead those whom he wished 
to mislead, and for that reason he reserved it for special 
occasions. 

“ If Mr. Edmund Melton or James McCutcheon iden- 
tify me now, they will be the first to do so.” 

It was hardly to be supposed that young Melton 
would show himself in the neighborhood of Houston 
Street again. More than likely he had returned to the 
seaside to get all that was to be gotten out of what re- 
mained of his vacation, with the heavy burden resting 
on his heart. 

“But I don’t know about that,” reflected the detec- 
tive, quickening his pace to catch the down-town train ; 
“ I prevented his making the visit, which he must have 
been exceedingly anxious to make, or he would not 
have come all the way from Ocean Beach for that pur- 
pose. His journey down-town was ta throw me off his 
track ; and what more probable than that he has re- 
turned to carry out his plan before going to the sea- 
shore ? Why was I so stupid as not to think of this 
sooner? ” 

It was curious -indeed that so -obvious a theory had 
not occurred to him before. It might not be too late 
yet to make amends for his carelessness. The moment 


HONEST NED. 


117 


he stepped off the train at Houston Street, he looked 
about for either or both of the boys. Neither was 
in sight ; and, recalling the-course they had taken be- 
fore turning about, he walked eastward. He moved 
rapidly, for time was valuable, and he had wasted a 
good deal of it. The trip to Thirty-fourth Street and 
back took more than an hour, but he could have 
shortened it by one half, had he retained his wits. He 
kept on and on ; and, when beyond the point where the 
lads changed their course, he studied both sides of the 
street closely. 

“ It is probably somewhere in this vicinity that he 
stopped, if he came back, and I shall be fortunate if I 
catch him coming out — more fortunate, indeed, than 
I can hope. Confound it ! ” 

It was a genuine surprise when, not a hundred feet 
away, he caught sight of Edmund Melton walking 
toward him. The boy had made his call, and was re- 
turning from it at that moment. 

The lad was moving fast, as though in great haste, 
and there was little doubt that he was making for the 
elevated- railway. The detective saw that he had not 
been noticed by: Melton, and, with something of his old 
quickness of perception and motion, he turned and took 
the same course, graduating his gait, so as to allow the 
lad to pass him just as the Bowery was reached. The 
youth hurried across the street, skipped up the steps 


118 


HONEST NED. 


of the station, and impatiently walked up and down 
while waiting for the train. He glanced at his watch 
frequently, but paid no -attention to the man in a la- 
borer’s dress, who seemed to be much interested in ex- 
amining the newspapers on the stand. 

The first train to arrive was for South Ferry. Mel- 
ton did not board that, and the detective was almost 
certain that he was trying to catch the last train for the 
seashore. When the City Hall train followed, he was 
one of the first to enter it, Blowitz placing himself 
at the opposite end of the same car. He was on the 
watch to observe whether the lad left at any of the way- 
stations, for this haste, after 1 all, might be pretended ; 
but he kept his seat and appeared to be in a brown 
study. Venturing to steal a look at the attractive 
face, the officer was~ surprised to see unmistakable 
traces of tears. Several times he took his handker- 
chief from his pocket and wiped his eyes. 

“ He must have been stirred by something to feel 
grief like that,” reflected the watcher; “can it be be- 
cause he sees that fate is closing round him, and that 
the first step he has taken iu crime is a fatal one ?” 

Once Melton was so moved that he held his handker- 
chief to his eyes for several minutes ; but as they ap- 
proached the City Hall station, he roused himself and 
became wide awake, and as impatient as when hurry- 
ing along Houston Street. He went down the steps at 


HONEST NED. 


119 


a pace which taxed the detective’s agility to the utmost, 
and then sped across the park toward Broadway. He 
did not look behind him, and cast only one glance at 
the City Hall clock, to compare it with his watch which 
he snatched out of his pocket “ on the fly,” as may be 
said. Along Broadway he hurried, and, reaching Court- 
landt Street, crossed it diagonally, as a belated passen- 
ger does when the minutes at his command are few. 

Almost any one in the situation of Detective Blowitz 
would have drawn off at this point, believing it useless 
to continue farther, since there seemingly could be no 
doubt of Melton’s destination ; but this taking seeming 
facts for granted has played the mischief with more 
than one well-laid plan. The pursuer never let up till 
he saw the boy pass through the ferry entrance, halt 
an instant while his ticket was punched, and then shoot 
like a deer through the waiting-room, and fairly leap 
through the ferry gates which snapfcd behind him like a 
steel trap. Detective Blowitz could not have followed 
him if he had .wished, but he was satisfied, by this time, 
that he had gone far enough. The boat caught by Mel- 
ton was the last one that connected with the late train 
for the seashore. 

“I have no more- doubt that he is going there than 
I have that I am the most befuddled man in the city 
of New York. This is the hardest stone-wall I ever 
bumped my crown against, but it’s got to give way,” 


120 


HONEST NED. 


lie added, compressing his lips and shaking his head, 
while his bright eyes snapped and he muttered, “ Con- 
found it ! ” 

He deemed it best to see Mr. Gumbridge, since 
he feared the gentleman might feel slighted at his 
apparent neglect. 

“Well, what do you*' think of it?” asked that in- 
dividual, when his caller had told his story. 

“ I confess that I was never more- mystified in my 
life. The fancy came to me when in the elevator to 
ask you whether you are ar somnambulist.” 

The host shook his -head with a smile. 

“ I have worked that theory, in the hope that I might 
have tried my hand at sleep-walking ; but I obtained 
proof that after entering my room on Tuesday night 
last I never left it until Wednesday morning.” 

“ The boy asserted his innocence in the most solemn 
manner, but could not be induced to tell where he spent 
the night. There is the key to tha whole business. If 
I could discover that fact the question would be settled.” 

“It strikes me that the most ordinary detective could 
do that much.” 

Blowitz took care to make known-nothing about his 
failure to shadow- Melton, after following him tO' Hous- 
ton Street. There was no need of the gentleman 
knowing it; besides which, the officer feared that the 
employer, in his goodness of heart, would spoil every- 
thing by trying to find out for himself.” 


HONEST NED. 


121 


44 I hope I shall do -so before long. Meanwhile, the 
lad is not to be^molested in any way.” 

44 Of course not, for that would block all investiga- 
tion. I don’t wish his uncle to learn anything of it 
until it is settled one way or the other.” 

44 There is no need of his hearing, for we have only 
to keep our mouths closed ; and I reckon we know how 
to do that.” 


122 


HONEST NED. 


CHAPTER XVIII. 

The next morning, when. Mr. Gumbridge walked 
down to his store, he was surprised to find his two clerks 
McCutcheon and Melton in charge. The elder had 
picked up so fast in strength that he concluded to 
resume duties that day, while Melton lopped a little 
off his vacation for reasons best known to himself. 

The boy’s face flushed slightly when he stepped for- 
ward and took the hand of his employer, but otherwise 
he was the same frank, self-possessed youth of old. 

“ I have only one thing to say, Mr. Gumbridge,” he 
remarked loud enough for the other clerk to hear ; “ if 
you can’t believe I am innocent, don’t believe me guilty 
until you receive further light. Do you wish me to 
stay with you ? ” 

“ Yes,” replied the gentleman, following the counsel 
of Blowitz ; “ go right on as before : the world shall 
never know anything of this sad business from me. 
When you are ready to speak, I shalb be ready to 
listen.” 

The broker had considered this jmatter before, and 
decided what to say and do when he met the boy. If 
he was discharged, his guardian would demand the 


HONEST NED. 


123 


cause, and a tempest would be precipitated whose result 
could not be foreseen. Besides, with the lad following 
his every-day routine, the detective would have a ten- 
fold better chance to work successfully. 

Employer and employee, by a common understand- 
ing, agreed that no further-reference was to be made to 
the. matter by either of them, until some definite stage 
was attained and the boy’s guilt or innocence established. 

Mr. Gumbridge complimented the youth, of whom he 
could not help feeling fond, despite the dark cloud 
hanging over him, for his daring and skill in saving the 
life of the drowning person at Ocean Beach. Edmund 
parried the glowing words as best he could, and hastened 
to say, — 

“ Since you were good enough to allow us three to 
arrange our vacations to suit ourselves, we have done it 
thus : Gibbons started early this morning for the fishing- 
banks, and expects to be gone two weeks ; and on his 
return McCutcheon will take his outing.” 

“ James looks as if he is in more need of it than 
either of you,” said Mr. Gumbridge. 

“ That’s just it,” replied McCutcheon ; “I am not 
quite strong enough to enjoy my vacation as I wish to, 
and I’d rather stay here in New York until I am.” 

“ That’s the oddest doctrine I’ve heard in a long 
time ; but if it suits you, I have no objection.” 

“I have picked up rapidly within the last twenty- 


124 


HONEST NED, 


four hours, and am quite sure of being myself in a day 
or two more.” 

“ Since Edmund has given up a part of his vacation, 
why not take that which is left? It may be just what 
you need.” 

“ You are very kind, but I couldn’t accept it after 
what you have done ; I prefer to stay with Edmund.” 

Mr. Gumbridge suspected that this -was the real rea- 
son for McCutcheomappearing at the store. He knew 
that Melton was coming home sooner than he intended, 
and he wished to be at his side when the storm broke. 
The two had always been fond of each other, and he 
was glad to see such trua friendship. 

“Something tells me that -Edmund will need him 
before this wretched business is done with ; possibly it 
will crush both. God pity us all ! ” 

“ Boys,” said Mr. Gumbridge, some minutes later, 
“ I’m going in the country to my family, and you may 
not see me for a week or two. I leave -everything in 
your hands.” 

And bidding them good-by, he passed out upon the 
street and made his way to the Astor House. 

“ Blowitz told me to give the signal-call to no one, 
but how can I help it ? The clerks have to know it or 
shut up shop. I feel so desperate that I don’t care 
much what they do ; they may run off with everything 
in the safe, burn the store, and start a riot in New 


HONEST NED. 


125 


York, and I won’t kick. Here I’m staying in the city 
like a fool, with .Shipman touring through Europe, and 
my family pining for me in the country. I’ve fooled 
them with the plea of business as long as I can. I’ll 
leave a note for Blowitz, telling him not to write or 
telegraph me until he knows who stole the black dia- 
mond. It makes no difference whether he gets it or 
not, but I shall never be satisfied till we discover the 
thief.” 

The gentleman carried out this resolution. That 
afternoon his family were delighted to see him a day 
sooner than they expected, and delighted still more, 
when he told them that he intended to stay a week or 
two with them. And now, since he is pleasantly estab- 
lished among the cool groves and woods and hills of 
the country, we will leave him there for a while and 
give attention elsewhere. 

“ I’m glad he’s —gone,” was the first remark of 
McCutcheon, “ for now we shall have a better chance 
to do what we want.” 

“ Do you think we are-watched? ” asked Melton. 

“ I am sure of it ; that’s the^trouble. Ever since you 
entered the store, I have been keeping a* lookout. A 
man, dressed like ar laborer, has passed three times, and 
though he didn’t turn his head, I saw him glance 
through the door twice. He’s the one that is-^hadow- 
ing you and maybe>both of us.” 


126 


HONEST NED. 


Detective Blowitz had managed his scheme so well 
the day before, that Melton had no recollection of hav- 
ing seen him at the time, so the words of McCutcheon 
surprised him less than would be supposed. “ If we go 
away separately, he can’t follow us.” 

“There may be a couple of them for that very, con- 
tingency.” 

“ What kind of a looking fellow is this man you 
suspect? ” 

“ See, there he goes now ! Don’t let him discover 
he’s suspected! ” 

Edmund caught sight of Detective Blowitz (for it 
was he) as he plodded heavily forward, his head down 
as if lost in thought, but not enough so to prevent his 
darting a side glance into the store as he passed the 
open door. 

“ That’s the fellow we’ve got to look out for,” said 
McCutcheon guardedly, when he was beyond sight. 

Detective Blowitz was serenely confident that his 
identity was unsuspected; but tho first time when his 
disguise was penetrated had come sooner than he 
dreamed. He did not know enough of the young man, 
McCutcheon, to learn that he was what might be 
called a^tiaturaklDorn detective. Already his wonderful 
acuteness had baffled the veteran in the service, and 
was destined to do things in the near future that would 
make him open his eyes wider than ever before. 


HONEST NED. 


127 


“ You were right about that fellow yesterday, Jim, 
and you may be about this one to-day.” 

“Why do you separate them, Ned, when they are one 
and the^same ? ” 

“How can you know*. that?” asked the surprised 
Melton ; “ I cannot see the least resemblance between 
them.” 

“ Both the disguises were^. clever ; but there is some- 
thing, which I cannot- describe, that gives him away.” 

“ Shall we leave the store separately or together? ” 

“ Separately ; for if this gentleman intends to play the 
watch on you, I’m going to try the same thing on him.” 

Melton laughed. 

“How is that possible, Jim? You are not strong, 
and you can’t alter your appearance as he does.” 

“ I’m strong enough to do what I have in mind, and 
as to whether I can disguise myself so as to deceive 
him, that remains to be seen ; but at present I have no 
intention of trying it.” 

When Melton went out to lunch, he observed the 
laborer hovering on the other side of the street. He 
took care not to let the detective know he was sus- 
pected. McCutcheon was not shadowed on the similar 
trip he made. 

“ There’s only one of them,” he decided, later in the 
afternoon ; “ so if you can throw him off, the road is 
clear.” 


128 


HONEST NED. 


A lialf-hour later a district- messenger boy sauntered 
into the store and asked, — 

“Does that. feller live here?” 

He held up an envelope, on which Melton saw his 
name written. He receipted,, paid for it, and then 
opened the missive, which was short and to the 
point, — 


Come at once. 


W. F 




\\ 


“ What shall L do ? ” asked the youth, handing the 
message to his friend. “I know what’s the matter, and 
I ought to be there this minute; but that detective will 
follow me and spoil everything.” 

“Wait a moment,” replied McCutcheon, stepping 
quickly to the door and peeping cautiously out. 

He saw the pretended laborer on the other side of the 
street watching the messenger boy like a hawk. He 
kept glancing at the store, as if debating whether it 
would be safe to leave it unguarded for a-few minutes. 
He concluded to try it, and hurried off after the boy. 

“Now, Ned, is your chance!” exclaimed McCutch- 
eon; “scoot for the Second Avenue Elevated, and keep 
your eyes open.” 

Young Melton proceeded to scoot and keep his eyes 
open. 


HONEST NED. 


129 


CHAPTER XIX. 

Detective Blowitz stuck faithfully to his post 
until late in the afternoon. When Mr. Gumbridge 
hurried out on his way to the hotel to start for the coun- 
try, he met him face to face, and said r “ Good-morning.” 

“Good-morning,” returned the gentleman, with a 
glance, in which there was no-trace of recognition. 

“ Of course,” said the satisfied officer, “ he could not 
suspect my identity. Melton was pretty- sharp yester- 
day, but I’ll prove toomiuch for him to-day.” 

The grave error which the really alert officer was 
committing was that of ignoring McCutcheon in the 
interesting little -game going on. It was he whom he 
had to fear more than Melton. 

“ Ah,” he muttered, when the messenger boy stum- 
bled into the store, “ something’s, up.” 

He strolled along the opposite side of the street, in 
the hope of gaining a sight of the interior ; but just 
then so many people were passing that, much to his 
annoyance, they shut off his view. He was anxious to 
learn whether the message was for McCutcheon or Mel- 
ton, though strongly of the belief that it was for the 
latter. Accordingly, after the bit of hesitation already 


130 


HONEST NED. 


referred to, he darted after the .-fellow, who, being a 
messenger boy, was easily .^overtaken. The detective 
tapped him lightly on the shoulder, and said, — 

“ I want to speak to you a minute ; will you step 
aside with me ? ” 

He drew him where they could converse without 
attracting attention. The first thing he did was to 
hand the youngster a silver quarter. 

“ What’s that fur ? ” asked the lad, with a satisfied 
sniff and a big grin. 

“ I want you to tell me whom that telegram was for 
that you took in the^ jewelry store just now, and who 
gave it to you.” 

The urchin backed off a few steps, and looked keenly 
at him. 

“ Is that what yer guv me the money fur?” 

“ That’s it precisely.” 

“ Wall, then, I s’pose I’ll have to tell. The telegram 
was sent by Let-her-go-Gallagher,, and was for Mc- 
Ginty.” 

The urchin paused long enough to- jab his thumb 
against the tip of his nose, and to twiddle his chubby 
fingers, when he darted up the street, just in time to 
escape the detective’s- shoe, while people . stopped and 
turned their heads at sight of a messenger boy running. 

“ Confound it ! ” exclaimed Blowitz, laughing in spite 
of himself, as he walked back on the opposite side of 


HONEST NED. 


131 


Maiden Lane ; “ I suppose I was served right for try- 
ing to bribe an official, but we wouldn’t make much 
progress in the world if some of the wheels weren’t 
greased.” 

Now that he was passing in front of the jewelry 
store, he ventured upon a glance within. Everything 
appeared as it was a few minutes before ; but he thought 
it best to make his way across, after going to the next 
corner, and obtain a closer view of the interior. He 
did so, and a discomforting thought came to him. 

“ I see only one of the boys in there, and he isn’t 
the right one. Perhaps the other is in the rear office, 
but I hope he hasn’t given me the slip again.” 

The second survey failed to sIioav him Melton, and 
he became more nervous than before. Confident in his 
disguise, he decided upon a bold step. He passed 
through the open door. 

Before, however, he could frame the words he had 
decided to utter in the way of business, Mr. McCutch- 
eon, who stood behind the counter, said with the bland- 
est of smiles, — 

“ You’re too -late ; he waited till you-chased after the 
messenger boy, and then skipped. I would like to oblige 
you, but really I don’t know where he is now. You’ll 
have to try-some other get-up than that of a sporting- 
man or laborer, for we’re getting tired of them, and 
would welcome a variety.” 


132 


HONEST NED. 


To use an expression that has been heard before, the 
feelings of Detective Blowitz may be better imagined 
than described. He no more expected such an address 
than he did to have a house fall on him. Quick to 
rally, however, he met the occasion cleverly. 

“I’m obliged to you for your. information, for I might 
have gone on for several days without- dreaming I had 
such a brilliant youth to contend against. I will attend 
to the matter without delay. Good-day.” 

“ Good-day ; but wouldn’t you like to buy something 
before you go ? How would aJolack diamond suit your 
taste ? ” 

“ I have no doubt you could- furnish me one if you 
chose, but I’m afraid your price is too high.” 

The natural conclusion of Detective Blowitz was that 
Edmund Melton, in-obedience to same urgent summons, 
had hurried to that mysterious rendezvous, somewhere 
in the neighborhood of Houston Street, and that the 
manifest thing for him to do was to hasten after him. 
If he had gone anywhere else, it was .idle to look for 
him, and the trail must be taken up again on the morrow, 
and another beginning made. He decided to act upon 
the advice of- McCutcheon, and try another change of 
costume ; but it may be questioned whether this was the 
wisest thing after all to do. 

McCutcheon was trying to gain as much time as pos- 
sible for Melton and himself. The detective would have 


HONEST NED. 


133 


grown suspicious had the clerk tried to keep him in the 
store under some pretext ; though to do this would have 
involved a falsehood, which the youth scorned as utterly 
as did Melton himself. It would take the officer a con- 
siderable while to go to his home, wherever it was, to 
effect a change of costume, and in that time McCutch- 
eon expected to do some work himself. Although the 
hour had not yet arrived at which they usually closed, 
he put everything in order and started for the elevated 
railway. 

The youth had no thought of attempting to disguise 
his personality. Since he had -found it so easy to pene- 
trate that of a jprofessional, it was to be expected that 
the latter would be equally quick to— pierce his mask. 
Any one seeing - McCutcheon, and knowing-how re- 
cently he had been ill, would have been, surprised at 
the change. He stepped off as- briskly as ever, but was 
compelled to put on the brakes in ascending the wind- 
ing coui'se to the elevated railway. 

In the meantime, Detective Blowitz was hustling. 
He had no time to throw away, but tarried at home 
long enough to effect as complete a metamorphosis in 
his personal appearance as possible. This was not 
done by any radical means, such as padding, wearing a 
wig or false whiskers, that are readily detected in the 
sunlight by any one who cares to scrutinize closely. 

He was dressed in a brown business suit, and forced 


134 


HONEST NED. 


his face into an expression which changed his looks 
more than would be supposed. He also affected a 
slight lameness, and carried a cane. Thus protected, 
he did not get off at Ninth Street, as he first intended, 
but boldly descended the steps at Houston Street with 
the crowd, and started eastward. 

As may be supposed, his eyes were put to their high- 
est test at this time. But nothing was to be seen of 
Melton. 

“If he is in this street, he has gone beyond where 
he turned about yesterday when he suspected me ; but 
how far ? That’s the question I would give a good deal 
to have answered.” 

This time he took the other side of the street, walk- 
ing slowly, and ever on the alert. Night was settling 
over the seething metropolis, and, though it was the 
season when many residents were out of the cit} r , no 
perceptible effect was produced on this swarming sec- 
tion, where the tide of humanity overflows at all hours 
of the night and day. Detective Blowitz had not 
walked two blocks when, to his astonishment, he ob- 
served McCutcheon sauntering in front of him, and 
on the same side of the street. He recognized him at 
a glance, as he swung his cane almost jauntily, and 
with little trace of his recent weakness. 

“Melton isn’t far off,” w'as the officer’s conclusion; 
“but why the mischief aren’t they together? Can it 


HONEST NED. 


135 


be that this fellow has mounted guard to warn the 
other of my approach? 

The theory seemed plausible, and his great object 
now was to prevent McCutcheon learning his character. 
With the help of the gloom, lit here and there by the 
street lamps, this ought not to be difficult ; but Detec- 
tive Blowitz was beginning to awake to the fact that 
two of the clerks employed by Shipman & Gumbridge 
were the brightest young fellows he had met in a long 
time, and, in pitting himself against them, it was never 
safe to take anything for granted. 

Detective Blowitz was no more on the alert than was 
McCutcheon. All his mental acumen was called into 
play; for he strongly suspected that the officer was 
lurking in the vicinity, and of course would identify 
him the moment he came within range of his vision. 


136 


HONEST NED. 


CHAPTER XX. 

Dropping twenty paces or so to the rear, Blowitz 
tried to accommodate his- gait to that of the youth, 
watching every movement meanwhile. But McCutch- 
eon seemed to be doing nothing more than merely stroll- 
ing along on this warm summer night, when the interior 
of almost any building was uncomfortable. 

Suddenly, without the least warning, the clerk 
wheeled about and walked at the same tardy gait to- 
ward Blowitz. It was as if he had abruptly awakened 
to the fact that he was going too far from home, and 
must return. Unfortunately, this took place at the 
very moment the detective was passing beneath a bright 
street lamp. As the best thing he could do, he contin- 
ued forward ; for it would not have done to show a sign 
of hesitation at such a crisis. But he kept his face 
twisted into an expression that would have deceived 
his own brother. 

McCutclieon would have been preternaturally wise 
and subtle had he suspected that this man was any 
more to him than the scores of others who met and 
passed and repassed him on the street. There was 
nothing about him to arouse interest ; and the search- 


HONEST NED. 


137 


ing glance he cast at him as they met , was the same he 
had given to others without number during the last hour. 

When Blowitz judged himself to be a couple of rods 
from McCutcheon, he turned about and looked, half ex- 
pecting him to dQ something which might furnish him 
with a pointer. Unfortunately the youth faced around 
at precisely the same moment, and observed the action 
of the detective. It was an accident on the part of 
the latter which might have occurred to Inspector 
Byrnes himself ; but, all the same, it was fatal, and no 
one caught it more quickly than Detective Blowitz 
himself. He continued his walk toward the East 
River; but he enjoyed the peculiar sensation of know- 
ing that while he had gone out to shadow a young man, 
that young man had s hadow ed him. 

McCutcheon was keeping his promise to Melton. 
The instant he saw the man turn his head, he knew his 
business, and he devoted his whole attention to him. 
He followed him several blocks, until, when near the 
river, he turned off. Then the clerk came back, for 
important business awaited him. 

The officer made a wide circuit, which brought him 
to Third Avenue, by way of Eighth Street. Having 
thrown the clerk off the scent, he believed the youth 
would look for him to come back by the same course. 
So he did ; but he did not forget to keep guard over 
the other approaches. It was not his intention to be 
caught napping if he could prevent it. 


138 


HONEST NED. 


Blowitz concluded to discard his cane, fling aside his 
lameness, and try another expression for his mobile 
countenance. That was all he could do just then ; but 
it must of necessity be as .successful as the othex meth- 
ods he had tried, for they had all failed. 

There seemed to be no trouble in finding the boys 
when there was nothing to be gained by so doing. 
There they were, coming along Houston Street, toward 
Third Avenue, and talking as though there was noth- 
ing in the whole world that specially- interested them. 

The officer’s recent experience caused him to- fight 
shy of the-youths : and he was quite confident they- saw 
nothing of him when they ascended the steps of the 
elevated station. He had decided to make no further 
attempts to shadow them that night. In the first place, 
he was convinced nothing was to be gained by doing so ; 
for they would doubtless be in bed within an hour, and 
he would have his trouble for his pains. 

Another good reason was, as he was obliged to con- 
fess to himself, he had- little, if any, chance of^ success. 
The suspicions of the boys had been- awakened, and they 
were on their.guard. More than once he had felt in- 
clined ta call in some one to help him, but he held a 
certain pride in carrying the-case through. The time 
had not yet arrived for him to own himself beaten by a 
couple of boys. He saw nothing to do except to make 
his way to his own home, and prepare for what the 
morrow should bring forth. 


HONEST NED. 


139 


Mention has already been made of a certain marked 
aptitude native to James McCutcheon, the second clerk 
of Shipman & Gumbridge and the bosom friend of 
Edmund Melton, in the way of unraveling skeins and 
solving problems like these brought forward by the 
unaccountable vanishment of the black diamond. The 
time has come to show the striking manner in which he 
proved the_possession of this^ knowledge, instinct, intui- 
tion, or whatever it may be called. His quickness in 
this direction had brought more than one expression of 
wonder from Melton. The latter had never held any 
suspicion of~Archer, the young man whom he saved 
from drowning at the seaside ; nor had he (despite the 
misgivings of that bumptious detective) read a line of 
the letter which he was writing to. Blowitz when 
approached in the reading-room of the Columbia House; 
nor had he missed the black pebble stolen from his 
trunk. The lad was therefore-astounded and incredu- 
lous when, after telling how^Arclier had approached 
him and pressed the acquaintance, McCutcheon quietly 
remarked, — 

“ I don’t doubt that he. was detective, sent down to 
find out what he-could.” 

“ Well, he didn’t find out much, for it wasn’t there to 
be found out. He may have felt so' thankful to me for 
the favoE-I was lucky enough to- do him, that he came 
back to the -city rather thaiv prosecute me.” 


140 


HONEST NED. 


“ Possibly that was the *f act, but it don’t sound like a 
professional detective.” 

If Mr. Josiah Archer was- ridiculed in some quarters, 
he undeniably received more^credit than was due him 
from the-dwo clerks. 

Instead of accompanying his friend, McCutcheon 
bade him good-by on the. platform at Houston Street, 
came down the steps again, and walked through to 
Broadway, where he took a down- town car. He had 
given Melton no hint of his errand. 

Near the Cit}^ Hall he disembarked, and made his 
way to one of the numerous -drinking-saloons in that 
vicinity. McCutcheon had neverTasted intoxicants in 
his life, and he did not propose to begin now. He was 
looking for a man. 

A quick glance around the bar-room told him he was 
not there, and he passed to the rear, where a number 
were sitting around tables, drinking, smoking, and talk- 
ing. The scene was anything but pleasant one for 
him ; but the business on which he was engaged was too 
serious to heed it now. 

He muttered an expression of. disappointment when 
he failed to see Micky Murphy, the young Irishman for 
whom he was looking. The waiter, who was quick to 
present himself for his order, was told to bring a- couple 
of cigars, though McCutcheon abominated- tobacco. 
By and by, however, a bright-faced Irishman came in 


HONEST NED. 


141 


with a brisk step, shook hands with the youth, and, 
sitting down beside him, the two conversed in low tones 
for several minutes. Both were deeply in--earnest. 
Finally McCutcheon handed the Irishman a five-dollar 
bill, with the remark, — 

“ That will pay your expenses to-Sea Cliff and back.” 

“ It’ll dcumoreu.than the same,” said Micky, “ being 
as the fare for the round trip is but a~4ollar, is the 
same.” 

“That’s all right; you are- entitled to something for 
your pains. You know the way. Take the Long Island 
Railroad”// bf 

“ I know the same ; I’ve been to Jamaky.” 

“ Go straight to- Sea Cliff Station, where you will 
get out and take the stage to the Sea Cliff House. If 
you choose, you can go by boat; but the Idlewild doesn’t 
leave until afternoon, and you will lose time. Now, 
Micky, there must be no. mistake made; you know 
whom to-look.for: he’s at the-Sea Cliff House. Go 
there, get a good- look at his face without letting any 
one know your purpose, and then come back and tell 
me what you have- learned.” 

“ If the Lord spares me^unworthy life, the same that 
ye ask shall be-done, and ye shall hear the jiews before 
sunset to-morrow.” 

And with this pledge, and after a few more words, 
they separated. 


142 


HONEST NED. 


CHAPTER XXL 

Detective Blowitz, now fully alive to the"difficult 
task he had set out for himself, called inter play all the 
skill of which he was master. He had been baffled in 
every effort to shadow Edmund Melton, and he decided 
upon a newdine of procedure. In his home that night 
he did considerable subtle reasoning before evolving 
his plan of campaign. 

“ It is clear to me,” he said, puffing his cigar, “ that 
the all-important thing to do first is to- find where 
Melton, goes in Houston Street, for it was there he 
spent last Tuesday night; that determined, the ques- 
tion of his guilt ordnnocence is settled. 

“ Now, the fact that he will brave disgrace and ruin 
before giving up the secret, proves that he must have 
the most powerful motives conceivable for his silence. 
What it is, I don’t know, but I mean to find out if it is 
among the. possibilities. 

“ When I met McCutcheon this evening,” he con- 
tinued, getting down to what he believed was the only 
hope before him, “ he had no suspicion oh my identity, 
or rather that I was a„ detective ; for I am sure he 
doesn’t know who I am. But for that— unfortunate 


HONEST NED. 


143 


turn of theTiead at the moment he looked around, I 
would have solved the mystery then and there. 

“ But why did he -turn about and come toAvard me, 
when at the moment of turning he had no thought of 
being watched ? 

“ He was on guard at that moment for Melton. 

“ Melton was in some house in the immediate neigh- 
borhood, and McCutcheon was watching outside, pre- 
pared to give the signal the instant he detected danger. 
He did give it when he learned that a detective was 
near. The signal was one which I did not observe, or, 
if I did, failed to catch its meaning. 

“ If I am right in m^theory, and I shall- test it, that 
is the immediate- neighborhood for me to watch ; and to 
do so successfully against , two such sharp young fel- 
lows, I must have a room where I can see without 
being seen.” 

The foregoing explains the theory he had formulated. 

“ Either McCutcheon or Melton must be~at the store 
through the day. Probably both will stay there, unless 
some urgent calPcomes for one or the other, as was the 
case this afternoon. Consequently, the time for me to 
be specially watchful is late in the afternoon ancHeven- 
ing, though I may miss it again.” 

The following forenoon he made his way to the sec- 
tion where he had such an annoying experience, and 
examined it with more deliberation. He was not in 


144 


HONEST NED. 


disguise ; and, though he did not expect to meet either 
of the young men, he took care that he was^not- sur- 
prised into being discovered by them. 

Studying the ground with a critical eye, he fixed upon 
a beer saloon as the most likely place tQ, serve his pur- 
pose, and as the most easily-secured. He had done such 
things before, and he found little- trouble in hiring the 
upper front room for-two or three days. It was a sleep- 
ing apartment ; but the liberaLprice paid by the detec- 
tive made the German owner eager to let him have it 
for-weeks if he should happen to want it that long. 
Everything being arranged, the detective took up his 
quarters, plentifully supplied with cigars, while eatables 
and drinkables were within-eall at all times. Then he 
entered upon what promised to be a tedious and trying 
test of his patience. 

It proved trying indeed ; for hour after hour dragged 
by without giving him a glimpse of-either of the lads. 
When darkness at last- settled over the city and the 
lamps were lighted, it was necessary to be unusually 
vigilant; but he was -sure that neighborhood had not 
beenHionored by a visit from-Melton or McCutcheon. 
Near midnight the detective, hot. disgusted, and tired 
out, descended the stairs, and, telling the- German he 
would be back on the- morrow, went home. 

The following day was Sunday, and Blowitj? thought 
the boys would be more likely to appear there than at 


HONEST NED. 


145 


any other time, inasmuch as they were free for twenty- 
four hours. He was at liis post, therefore, quite early 
in the forenoon, but still- without success. The first 
shock came to him when the afternoon was well gone. 
He had bowed the green blinds, so as to look up and 
down the street as became necessary. About a block 
away, toward Third Avenue, he caught sight of young 
Melton himself, attired neatly in his best suit, and com- 
ing slowly, as though he was out for a stroll. 

“ I wonder where McCutcheon is confound it ! ” 

Letting his eyes roam along his own side of the street, 
Detective Blowitz saw the identical individual almost 
beneath his window. Being in advance of Melton, he 
was evidently reconnoitering. It was plain to see that 
he was glancing up and down the street, and from side 
to side, and even at the upper windows. When the 
latter fact was- apparent, Blowitz drew back his head. 

“ I believe he is the-sharpest-eyed of the-dwo, and if 
he discovers my eyes peeping down upon him the jig 
is up.” 

But his coign of vantage was so-excellent, that, with 
a little care, he was able to view the movements of the 
boys without any-risk in return. He found them inter- 
esting enough. 

While Melton was using his eyes, too, after the same 
manner, his principal business seemed to be to keep 
watch-of his friend. The latter-walked a short way 


146 


HONEST NED. 


beyond the saloon, glanced up and down the street, and 
then took oft his hat and fanned his face, as though suf- 
fering from the heat, when, in fact, the temperature was 
markedly cooler than it had been for a week. 

“ That’s a signal,!’ was the conjecture of Detective 
Blowitz ; “ I judge it means that he sees no danger, but 
he cautioned his friend to wait a few minutes before 
making his call.” 

This conclusion was based on Melton’s actions ; for, 
after slowing his walk for a few paces, he resumed his 
leisurely gait, and ^continued on up the street, until he 
passed beyond McCutcheon, who was now sauntering 
back again at a still slower pace. 

The elder clerk^peered through the open door of the 
saloon as he passed, stepping close enough to gain a 
view of theTnterior, and then, walking less than a hun- 
dred feet beyond, came to a full stop, and began-fan- 
ning himself more- vigorously than ever, so much so, 
indeed, that he- dropped his hat. 

Detective Blowitz smiled. 

“ That was no -accident ; it was a -signal ; I’ll keep 
my eye on him for a minute longer confound it ! ” 

It struck him that Melton was the most important 
person to watch, and he glanced across the street. 

To his utter consternation, the boy was^-nowhere in 
sight ! Good cause for the ^exclamation indeed ! 

“ But he can’t beTar off,” was the consolation of the 


HONEST NED. 


147 


watcher ; “ he must-appear one of these days, and I'll 
wait here till the crack of- -doom before h§ eludes me 
again.” 

Meanwhile, he could afford to keep half an eye on 
Mr. McCutcheon. That young gentleman began saun- 
tering up and down the street, much after the fashion 
of the preceding night, his evident business being to 
watch for eavesdroppers in the shape of detectives. 
His beat was so short, that there could remain no doubt 
that the house in which Ned Melton was at that mo- 
ment was very near. Thus an hour passed, when 
McCutcheon, while just to the east of the saloon, drew 
out his handkerchief and flirted it peculiarly, before 
passing it over his face. 

“ Another— signal,” thought the watchful Blowitz ; 
“ but I can’t tell yet what it means.” 

He now let McCutcheon go, and set his vision roam- 
ing up and down the other side of the street. He was 
resolved not to be caught napping as before. 

“ Ah, there he-comes, as sure as fate ! ” 

The door of a respectable-looking, house, almost op- 
posite, but slightly to the eastward, suddenly opened, 
and Ned Meltorujstepped quickly into- sight. It was 
but three steps to the pavement, along which he walked 
briskly in the direction of Third Avenue. At the next 
corner he crossed over and joined McCutcheon, and 
the two speedily>disappeared. 


148 


HONEST NED. 


“ Eureka ! ” exclaimed the delighted detective, “ I’ve 
hik it at last ! That’s the house in which young Mel- 
ton spent last Tuesday night. It now remains for me 
to find out why he passed it there.” 


HONEST NED. 


149 


CHAPTER XXII. 


It struck Detective Blowitz that no time was likely 
to be more favorable for pushing his investigation than 
the present. Melton having completed his- visit, and 
he and his companion having departed, it was improba- 
ble that they should appear again before the morrow, 
and possibly -not then. 

Passing through the bar-room down-stairs, he went 
out on the street, walked to the next corner, crossed 
over, and, reaching the same door through which the 
lad had ..passed but a short time before, he stepped 
up and rang the. bell. Almost instantly he heard a 
cautious., movement as of a shutter overhead ; but he did 
not look up, and, waiting a minute, rang the bell again. 
This time he heard some one descending the stairs. 
Then the person moved along the hall, unlocked the 
door, and drew it open, J 7 

/* Detective Blowitz saw before him ar middle-aged 
lady, wan,-sad-looking, poorly dressed in faded mourn- 
ing, with iron-gray hair, and a scared look. She held 
the door only partly open, and her hands trembled. 

“ Good-afternoon,” said the caller, politely lifting his 
hat. “ Will you please ask Mr. Melton to- step to the 
door a moment ? ” 


150 


HONEST NED. 


In a weak, tremulous voice she answered, — 

“ Mr. Melton isn’tdiere, sir.” 

“ What ! ” exclaimed the gentleman, snatching out 
his watch and looking at it; “ why did he -tell me to 
meet him here at six, when it lacks a few minutes only 
of six ? Maybe he hasn’t arrived yet ? ” 

“ We don’t expect him.” 

“ Ah, then he has come and gone ? ” 

The lady hesitated about replying, and then said, — 

“ You have made a-mistake, sir,” and, without an- 
other word, closed the door in his face. 

But at the moment of doing so, the detective heard 
again the cautious stirring of a -shutter overhead. This 
time he looked up, and was in time to catch a glimpse 
of a white; terrified_countenance that was immediately 
withdrawn, as if fearful of being discovered. Realiz- 
ing, as he had many times before, that the detective’s 
pursuit of knowledge is generally attended with diffi- 
culties, Blowitz moved down the street, determined not 
to give up his surveillance of the house for a while to 
come. 

“ I have learned that a pale, sad woman, and another 
individual, with a still whiter countenance, are inside. 
I think the second -person is a male, though whether a 
man or a boy I am not sure. There may he a dozen 
others in there, and I might have- gotten myself in a 
hornets’ nest before suspecting it.” 


HONEST NED. 


151 


“ Can it be that that house holds the secret of the 
stolen diamond ? What a record it would make if the 
dwellings, even in a single block, could tell all that 
has taken place within their walls ! ” 

It would hardly do to re-enter the saloon, since it 
was in such -plain sight that the eyes that were watch- 
ing him would be sure to-Tead his purpose. He re- 
called that during his wearisome waiting, both on that 
day and the day before, he had seen an elderly gentle- 
man enter and"Come out of it several times. He had 
plenty of opportunity to observe proceedings, and he 
noted all this. He recalled, too, that the man looked 
like a^doctor, and he formed tho conclusion that some 
one within was seriously' ill. 

Could it be that the -white face of which he had 
caught a glimpse belonged to the patient, whose fright 
had led him to drag himself for a- moment to the 
window ? 

“It is quite safe to L conclude that whatever* parties 
are in the house, they have a_patient among them, else 
why the physician’s visit ? Being shut off at present 
from making the acquaintance of the invalid, I will try 
the doctor, and see what can bo-pumped out of him.” 

Another long waiting followed ; but the physician ap- 
peared just before nightfall, and remained in the house 
some fifteen or twenty minutes. He was on foot, and, 
when he came out, it was easy for- Detective Blowitz to 


152 


HONEST NED. 


follow him to his office on Fourteenth Street. He 
made no stops on the way ; and, a few minutes after his 
entrance, the officer rang the Jbeil, and inquired for- Dr. 
Meredith, whose name, as was to be expected, was 
prominently displayed at the front window. The mo- 
ment he was ushered into the medical man’s office, the 
caller recognized him as the visitor at the house he had 
been watching so long. 

Detective Blowitz, well aware how. jealously the true 
physician. guards the secrets of his patients, knew bet- 
ter than to drive straight at the subject in his mind. 
He made complaint of a touch of rheumatism, in which 
the doctor showed the. usual professional interest, and 
made enough inquiries to satisfy himself before writing 
a prescription. 

The caller paid theTee, and rose to go, when he said, 
as though the thought had just come to him, — 

“ I think I noticed you on Houston Street this 
afternoon.” 

“ Very probably,” replied the physician with a smile, 
“ for I was there ; I have a number of patients in that 
neighborhood.” 

“ I think this was at No. * that I saw you enter.” 

“ Yes, I was there,” replied the medical gentleman, 
with a slight nod, as if on his guard ; “ are you ac- 
quainted with the occupants ? ” 

“Well, no, hardly that; but a friend of mine, a 


HONEST NED. . 


153 


wealthy employer, has a couple of young, men who 
have been visiting that place for some time past, and he 
is desirous of knowing what the special attraction is. 
He has a fatherly interest in his employees, and feels 
that he has a right to know.” 

44 Has he inquired of them ? ” 

Detective Blowitz was unwilling to utter a downright 
untruth, but he saw that the man before him was on 
theMefensive. Despite the care with which the officer 
approached the subject, the doctor had taken the alarm. 

44 He has not -inquired of them directly, but one of 
his friends has, and without success.” 

44 Was this friend authorized to make such inquiry? ” 
44 Most certainty.” 

44 And the gentlemen-refused to answer him? ” 

“ They did.” 

“ And pray what is your interest in the matter ? ” 
i<r He wishes me to learn the truth for him.” 

44 If the lads- refuse you, why not go to the house and 
make inquiry there ? ” 

44 Will they-give it ? ” 

44 1 cannot answer ; have you tried ? ” 

The doctor was firing the shots at his caller as fast as 
the latter could launch them at him. 

44 1 have.” 

44 And with what success ? ” 

44 None at all ; they will give^iio information.” 


154 


HONEST NED. 


“ Then I domot know who can,” remarked the physi- 
cian, compressing his thin lips and looking very stern. 

“ I am fully aware of the sacredness with which a 
physician holds the secrets of his patients,” said the 
detective; u but I was hopeful that I would not be 
expecting you to do anything unprofessional if I asked 
you the name of your patient and what is his special 
malady.” 

“You tell me you know a physician’s duty toward 
his patients, and yet your questions prove you do not ; 
or, if you do, you choose to ignore them. You have 
asked me to betray a confidence, for which I would 
despise myself if I complied. I presume your errand 
here had more to do with that than with-rheumatism.” 

Ignoring this thrust, Detective Blowitz said, — 

“ I beg pardon for my^ blunder; but, if you knew how 
much is at stake in this matter, you would excuse my 
solicitude.” 

“ I have nothing to do with that, sir ; but it strikes 
me that if the-employer of the youngs gentlemen you 
have spoken of has a legitimate^riglit to pry into their 
personal affairs, he can readily- learn the truth about 
them. Good-day, sir.” 

“ It’s lucky I am not thin-skinned,” chuckled Blow- 
itz, as he strolled up toward Broadway ; “ for the snub- 
bings and defeats that I’ve run against within a week 
are enough to blanch the- cheek of a "book-agent. I 


HONEST NED. 


155 


begin to feel like a poor orphan alone in New York, 
without a friend to help him. The next thing forme 
to do, I suppose, is to trump up some charge against 
that house, and get a. search-warrant that will compel 
its occupants to show up.” 

But he disliked that step, and was not ready to take 
it until other means were exhausted. One was to go 
to Edmund Melton, and tell him it was known where 
he went on that fateful Tuesday night, and then, if he 
still refused to open his mouthy inform him that the 
house would be raided and forced to give up its secret. 

“ But that may put him on his guard,” reflected the 
detective ; “ and it won’t do to give him and McCutcheon 
more rope than can be helped.” 


156 


HONEST NED. 


CHAPTER XXIII. 

There were two genuine detectives, using all the 
skill of which they were possessed, trying to solve the 
mystery of the disappearance of the black diamond 
from the safe of Shipman & Gumbridge, in Maiden 
Lane. One was Erastus Blowitz, and the other James 
McCutcheon. ( One was a veteran of many years’ ex- 
perience, and the other a boy, not twenty years old ; and 
fate ordered that it should fall to the latter to strike the 
clew which baffled every_effort of the former. 

When McCutcheon had acquired all the facts, he set 
to work with that natural aptitude of which I have 
spoken. Like a true detective, he kept what he was 
doing from his most intimate friend, Melton, around 
whom the coils seemed to be infolding themselves. 

It having been established beyond denial that some 
one had visited the store in Maiden Lane between mid- 
night and daybreak (so that the burglary was really 
effected in the early hours of Wednesday morning), he 
considered it equally certain that the- visitor must have 
been seen by one or more persons. Even at that late 
hour there were people passing through Maiden Lane, 
to say nothing of the policemen ,on their regular beat. 


HONEST NED. 


157 


The latter had been questioned without result, both by 
Blowitz and McCutcheon. 

It followed, therefore, that-seme where there were one 
or more . persons who could solve the mystery ; but by 
what earthly means could those persons be found? 
The natural recourse of- advertising in the daily papers 
suggested itself ; but that involved a publicity that the 
youth dreaded. It would be sure to reach the ears of 
Colonel Bainbridge, Melton’s guardian, and that impul- 
sive gentleman would be certain to make things un- 
pleasant for his nephew, not to mention others concerned. 
The papers must not be appealed to except as a last 
resort. 

The conclusion reached by the youth was to begin 
his investigations at the drinking-saloons in the neigh- 
borhood. Those were the places that kept late hours ; 
and the one conducted by Micky Murphy, in Nassau 
Street, was almost within sight of the store. Thither, 
therefore, the youthful detective went. His first essay 
brought a success that fairly took away his breath. 
Micky was open that night until after two o’clock in 
the morning, his usual .custom being to close at mid- 
night. After beating about the bush, McCutcheon 
said, — 

“ The store had a -visitor Tuesday night or early 
Wednesday morning, and there is a-dispute among the 
clerks and Mr. Gumbridge as to- who it was. I thought 


158 


HONEST NED. 


possibly that you might have had some one in- here at 
the time who saw our caller, and who could describe 
him. Can you remember who were with you between 
twelve and one o’clock ? ” 

The Irishman was_leaning over one end of the bar 
and talking to the youth, leaving his own boy to wait 
on customers. When the last- question was asked him, 
he grinned -significantly, and said in. an undertone, — 

“ Come into the back room beyont for a few minutes.” 
McCutcheon followed him, his heart beating fast with 
a new and thrilling hope. Sitting down at a table 
where they were out of hearing, Micky asked, with the 
same grin on his good-looking face, — 

“ What time of night was that ? ” 

“ Between twelve and one o’clock ; in fact, between 
half-past twelve and one.” 

Then came the startling declaration, — 

“It was me ownself, Micky Murphy, that saw the 
mon ! 

“ What ! ” gasped McCutcheon, starting from his 
seat ; “ are you speaking the truth ? ” 

“ That’s what- Micky Murphy always does, thanks to 
the good training he-resaved from his blissed mither.” 

“ Tell me how it was, please.” 

“Well,” began the Irishman, a flush overspreading 
his rosy countenance, “I was out on a little' bat wid 
the boys that night, whin I ought to have been here 


HONEST NED. 


159 


’tinding to bus’ness like a gintleman ; but I wasn’t all 
the same : and be the same token, I was that late in git- 
ting back that it Avas nigh one o’clock whin I come 
through Maiden Lane, walkinLas sthraight as I knowed 
how, so as not to attract the eye of the cops, — and 
I Avill own that it^wasn’t the aisiest job of me life, — 

Cv^ 

whin, jist as I Avas passing your place beyant, I ob- 
sarved a gintleman come out and lock the door behint 
him.” 

“ Did you have a look at him ? ” 

“ Whisht, now, don’t ye recall the big lamp that’s in 
front of your place ? He turned about as I Avas just 
opposite the same. At first I was thinking there was 
two of him ; but that Avas owing to the good time I had 
had wid the boys. He looked kaanly at me ; and be the 
same token, I took a kaan glimpse at him.” 

“ Have you ever seen-him before ? ” 

“ Many’s the time. I don’t knoAv his name, but I’ve 
obsarved him in your^place whin I was^promenadir^ 
past, and he was behint the -counter as if he was the 
boss of the shop.” 

McCutcheon was barely able to falter, — 

^Describe him.” 

“A middle-aged gintleman, welL dressed, wid side 
whiskers ” — 

“ Enough ; you are describing _Mr. Gumbridge,” inter- 
rupted the youth, retaining his -self-control by a strong 


160 


HONEST NED. 


effort. “Meet me at saloon, near the entrance to 

the Brooklyn Bridge, to-night at ten o’clock.” 

McCutcheon wanted time to think of several matters 
that were brought up by the astounding words of the 
Irishman. He thought it best to meet him in another 
place, since Micky would be less likely to be disturbed 
by acquaintances. Besides, McCutcheom desired to be 
certain that no detective was shadowing him at the 
time of the interview. He had noticed that Melton 
was the special object of such surveillance ; but there 
was no saying when another officer might be put on his 
track, or when the one now at the business should trans- 
fer his attentions to him. 

It was in the afternoon that he had this talk with the 
Irishman. He crossed the street to the store, which 
was in charge of Melton, and who had no thought of 
the errand that had kept McCutcheon out for half an 
hour. He noticed that the Hatter was thoughtful, as 
though something was on his mind (and he naturally 
believed he knew its nature), so he did not- break in 
upon his reveries, except when business made it ne- 
cessary. 

The first overwhelming fact that confronted the youth 
was that the. Irishman, so far as he went, had described 
Mr. Gumbridge himself. McCutcheon knew nothing of 
the surmises of his employer and the detective in that 
direction; but the thought of somnambulism inevitably 


HONEST NED. 


161 


came to him. An instinct, .however, which he conld not 
explain, whispered to him that Micky Murphy wa&- mis- 
taken ; the visitor whom he saw could notdiave been 
Mr. Gumbridge. Had he left the-Astor House in a 
somnambulistic state, his. actions must have attracted 
the notice of some of the observant attaches; and the 
gentleman himself would have investigated the possi- 
bility of such a thing (as, indeed, he had done). 

Another fact was not to be forgotten : the Irishman, 
by his own_ncknowledgment, was not in a-eondition to 
judge things with, accuracy at the time he believed he 
saw Mr. Gumbridge. An intoxicated man sees, many 
queer things, many of which exist onty in his imagina- 
tion ; and what more likely than that he erred on the 
night of the robbery ? 

But McCutcheon would have beem derelict beyond 
conception if, for the~reasons mamed, he had dismissed 
from further investigation what might prove to be an 
invaluable clew. It was for that reason that he asked 
Micky Murphy to meet him at another saloon, for a 
further -discussion of the matter. Nothing would have 
been easier than for him to come to the store, or for Mc- 
Cutcheon to go to his place, without waiting for the 
time named. But the watchful- detective would be 
sure to notice anything of that nature; and the youth 
did not wish him to take the Irishman in hand until 
he was through with him. 


162 


HONEST NED. 


The reader has alreadyTearned what took place at the 
meeting appointed, whither Micky Murphy went~a little 
late. Despite the partial description given by him, Mc- 
Cutcheon was not convinced. He therefore.* engaged 
Micky to go to JSea Cliff and see, Mr. Gumbridge face 
to face. The man was certain he could- identify him; 
and, before taking a single step farther along the misty 
vista opening before him, the youth was resolved that 
no such fatal mistake should be made, if in his power to 
prevent it. 


HONEST NED. 


163 


CHAPTER XXIV. 

A less spirited man than Erastus Blowitz might 
have given up the fight after his snub by Dr. Meredith ; 
but the true detective does not yield so long as he has 
an inch of ground to stand on : Blowitz was beginning 
to enjoy it. 

“ It looks as if fate had set out to turn me back from 
every avenue I attempt to enter; but I must have a 
good many more turnings back before I throw up the 
sponge.” 

On the day succeeding his call on the physician, he 
was at his old station, over the German saloon-keeper’s 
place. This time the detective had gotten- himself up 
to resemble a^-medical -gentleman. True, this required 
little, if any, change of- apparel, since physicians closely 
resemble the average man in looks, manner, and style 
of dress; but Blowitz, im addition to the indefinable 
something which marks the majority of those belonging 
to the medical profession, carried with him a little 
hand-bag, similar to. that in which a surgeon keeps his 
instruments. It may be said that nature -rendered it 
easy for him to assume the part he had in mind. The 
changes were mostly of a facial character, since he did 


164 


HONEST NED. 


not wish to be too readily detected. His hair was 
whitened, and the mustache and goatee, stuck in 
place, were carefully grizzled. 

Time did not hang so heavily on his hands as during 
his preceding vigils. He had learned considerable, and 
it was ordered that he should take the most important 
step of all that afternoon. His first object now was to 
study the habits of those who entered and left the mys- 
terious building, so far as such a thing could be done 
from his station. It was not until afternoon that he 
settled himself for a steady and careful scrutiny of his 
field of vision. 

The first familiar figure that came into view was that 
of the energetic, wide-awake Dr. Meredith. He had 
no fear of detectives or watchers, for he had nothing to 
conceal. He walked straight to his destination, rang 
the bell, entered, and was present no more than ten 
minutes, when he came out and soon passed from view 
in the direction of Third Avenue. Nothing was to be 
gained by following him, and the watcher gave him no 
further thought. 

He had been out of sight less than half an hour 
when the pale-faced woman who stopped the detective 
on the threshold came out. She was plainly clad in 
mourning, and carried a basket on her arm. 

“ Probably means to make some -purchases,” was the 
conclusion of Detective Blowitz ; “ but I may as well 
make sure of it.” 


HONEST NED. 


165 


Consequently the woman was shadowed from the 
time of her appearance until she re-entered her home. 
The interval w r as less than half an hour, her movements 
and manner showing her anxiety to return without 
delay. She went to two or three stores, buying tea at 
one place, sugar at another, and some trifling articles 
at a third. 

Then she stopped at a drug-store, and had a prescrip- 
tion filled, after which she passed along Houston Street 
to her residence. This was—uneventful enough ; but 
the detective received one good start while shadow- 
ing her. At the moment of crossing Third Avenue he 
observed Ned Melton descending the steps of the ele- 
vated railway station. The young man had no com- 
panion, and had evidently left McCutcheon in charge of 
the store, during his absence. 

The officer managed to steal a glance or two at the 
lad while keeping track of the woman’s movements. 
Any one who has ever attempted it knows how difficult 
it is to “ shadow ” another for anydength of time with- 
out being suspected. The task is infinitely greater 
when the effort is to “ pipe ” two persons going in oppo- 
site directions. It is self-evident that it cannot be done, 
except to a trifling extent. But the woman had entered 
the store on the corner of Bleecker Street, and remained 
within long enough for Blowitz to take a look or 
two at the youth, and to note that he was heading 


166 


HONEST NED. 


toward the house which he had already visited several 
times. 

The officer did not want to meet Ned Melton face to 
face ; for nothing was to be made by doing so, and he 
might lose a great deal. His own change of appearance 
was not sufficient, as he feared, to deceive the lad when 
he was on his guard. Ordinarily it would do so, and 
might in the present instance ; but the detective was 
taking no— unnecessary chances. Accordingly, when 
the woman started homeward, he not only* remained 
well to the rear, but kept on the other side of the street, 
not entering the saloon until some minutes after she 
had passed from- sight in her own home. 

Detective Blowitz never went into the lower room, 
in which there were always a number of loungers, with- 
out casting one searching glance for suspicious charac- 
ters. It was not a desirable thing to be shadowed while 
shadowing another, as he had been taught more than 
once by experience. He saw nothing to disturb him, 
and was soon back at his old perch, as alert, vigilant, 
and eager as ever. The weather had become warm 
again, and his situation was unpleasant to a degree. 
Not a breath of air was stirring. The German people 
seemed -oblivious of such a luxury as ventilation , and 
all the heat in the building appeared to be concentrated 
in the room at whose window he sat in a chair, smoking 
until all enjoyment of the weed was lost. But, with 


HONEST NED. 


167 


the shutters Jdo wed in front of his face, he tipped for- 
ward in his chair, and allowed nothing to elude his 
vision. 

It was a long while after the return of the woman 
that the watcher observed a movement of the shutters 
from which lie had seen the white face peering down 
upon him. He could see nothing further, the blinds 
bei«g turned so as to-prevent it ; but it followed, of 
course, that some person was manipulating them. 

“ He is seeking to find out whether the- coast is clear 
for Melton to come out.” 

The stir of the blinds lasted several minutes, previous 
to which Blowitz had-satisfied himself that the lad was 
alone in his -visit to the section. McCutcheon, no 
doubt, was at the-store in. Maiden Lane, and would stay 
there untiLclosing time. In-fact, it was already late 
enough to justify -him in shutting up shop. 

The watcher soon had -proof that he was right in his 
supposition. Melton, who must have been waiting in 
the hall below, became satisfied he had nothing to 
fear. The door was quickly opened and closed, and 
he stepped briskly off toward the avenue. Blowitz 
noticed his furtive glances up and down and across the 
street, and understood their cause. 

“ I don’t consider it worth while to dog you again, 
my son ; so go in peace.” 

The observant watcher had noticed that Dr. Mere- 


168 


HONEST NED. 


dith’s “ shingle ” gave his^ evening office hours as from 
seven to nine. Consequently, unless' the circumstances 
were exceptional, he was always to be found at home 
during the interval named. 

“ I hope he will stay there this evening, or, at least, 
keep out of this neighborhood. I don’t want him inter- 
fering with me.” 

The sultry August afternoon was drawing to a close 
when Detective Blowitz, with his instrument-case in 
hand, emerged from the saloon, and started at a brisk 
walk toward the avenue. Any one casting a glance at 
him would have set him down as a physician or surgeon 
that had just made a professional call upon the family 
of the German. During the walk, Detective Blowitz 
did the best he knew how to work himself into his 
assumed character. Arriving at the avenue, he did not 
turn down it, but crossed the street, and came directly 
back over the route just passed, with the exception that 
he took the other side of the street. 

When opposite the dwelling he had studied for so 
many hours in vain, he promptly stepped up and rang 
the bell. Instantly his vigilant ear caught the slight 
rustling of the shutters overhead, and he knew he was 
undergoing another scrutiny. Evidently it was satis- 
factory ; for a few minutes later a step sounded in the 
hall, and the door was partly opened by the same woman 
he had seen on his former visit. 


HONEST NED. 


169 


“ Good-day, madam,” he said pleasantly, stepping 
forward, as if his time was precious ; “ I couldn’t meet 
Dr. Meredith in time to hold a consultation with him, 
so I concluded tcurun down and take a look at our 
friend, and then, report to the doctor. How does he 
seem this~evening ? ” 

“ You’re the jpther-' doctor, are you ? ” asked the 
woman, drawing the door farther inward, but still a 
little bewildered in manner. 

“ Didn’t he tell you about Dr. Hannibal ? Excuse 
me, for I have other important engagements to look 
after.” 

“ I didn’t mean to -keep you waiting, but we have 
to be careful ; come in.” 

And “ Dr. Hannibal ” entered the house that had 
baffled him so long. 


170 


HONEST NED. 


CHAPTER XXV. 

Detective Blowitz, in the character of “ Doctor 
Hannibal,” calling by. request of the regular physician, 
stepped into the narrow hall of the house, whose thresh- 
old he had never been permitted to cross until now, 
and waited for the lady to. show him the way. 

“ Up-stairs,” she said, pausing for him to precede 
her. He skipped nimbly up, and paused at the head of 
the steps for her to direct him farther. 

She now brushed past him, took the lead, and, with 
hushed footfall and decreasing pace, passed to the door 
of the Jront room, which she noiselessly opened, and 
looked round for him to enter. He was directly behind 
her, and'-stepped within. 

On a bed near the front windows lay a young man, 
whose glassy eyes and pallid, shrunken features told so 
observant a gentleman as the detective, with his little 
medical knowledge, that he was stricken with some 
fatal ailment, and had but a short time to live. The 
visitor did not shrink from the peculiar and trying task 
upon which he had entered. He removed his gloves, 
placed his instrument-case on the little table, almost 
covered with phials, tumblers, and the various para- 


HONEST NED. 


171 


phernalia of the sick-room, and softly approached the 
bedside. 

The woman, who was .watching him closely, placed a 
chair for him, on which, with a gentle “ Thank you,” 
he sat down. Then assuming a cheerfulness which the 
wise physician always carries into the sick-room, he 
took the wasted hand, applied his forefinger to the 
pulse, and kindly asked, — 

“ How do you feel this evening ? ” 

“ Pretty bad, doctor; but I think I’m a little better,” 
replied the young man in a husky voice, fixing his eyes 
longingly on the face bending over him, as if he would 
read the thoughts there. 

“I -hope so,” returned the caller, passing his hand 
over the clammy forehead, and tenderly-brushing away 
the dark matted hair; “let us believe you will pull 
through.” 

“Do you think I will, doctor?” was asked in the 
same husky voice, and accompanied by the same yearn- 
ing look. 

“It will do a good deal towards it if you keep up a 
brave heart, my lad.” 

“No one could be -braver than Washington,” said the 
sad-eyed mother, standing at the head of the bed, and 
trying to keep back the tears. 

“ I don’t doubt it. Doctor Meredith says the same 
thing; he has grown quite fond of Washing — what 
did he tell me his other name is ? ” 


172 


HONEST NED. 


“ Fulmer Washington Fulmer.” 

“ Ay, yes ; it had slipped my mind.” 

The reader will recall that Ned Melton, in one of 
his conversations with Detective Archer, referred to 
Wash Fulmer. 

“ You understand, doctor, that the name is to be 
given to nobody, and nothing is to be said about your 
visit to any one except Dr. Meredith.” 

“ It isn’t necessary to remind me of that, my good 
lady,” said the visitor with ar-kindly, reproving smile ; 
“ it is all right, and you may give yourself no concern 
on that score. IIow long has your son been in this 
condition ? ” 

“ He came home a little more than two weeks ago 
not feeling well. He wanted to give himself up — that 
is — you understand,” she said, with some confusion. 

“ Of course, of course,” replied the doctor, nodding 
sympathetically, as he looked round in her face. 

“ But I persuaded him to wait until he got well, poor 
boy ; and instead of getting better, he has been growing 
worse.” 

At this point the mother, overcome by her feelings, 
put her handkerchief to her eyes and silently wept. 

It would be unjust to Detective Blowitz to say he 
was not touched by the scene, so full of human pathos. 
No man could look upon the -youth, who had lately 
been a fine, manly fellow, but was now smitten down 


HONEST NED. 


173 


by mortal illness, and see the grief of the parent with- 
out being moved. 

The officer had resolved at the moment he took his 
place by the .bedside that, whatever might be the issue 
of this strange move on his part, he would never be the 
means of bringing any additional sorrow to this house- 
hold. He believed these two, with the exception per- 
haps of a servant, and there was no certainty of that, 
since none had as yet shown herself, were the only 
occupants— of the house. Neither mercy nor justice 
called for any steps on his part that might deepen the 
shadow already jesting across the threshold. Even 
though his profession was an unfeeling one, in which 
sentimentality is the last element to play a part, he had 
a heart, and it was stirred by suffering and distress. 
Still he had succeeded in entering this home, and he 
did not intend to surrender any advantage that might 
be gained by a considerable use of the means thus 
placed in his hands. 

He not only tested the -pulse, and passed his palm 
over the forehead of the patient, but looked at his 
tongue, and asked him numerous questions about his 
peculiar symptoms. The conclusion reached by the 
pretended physician was that the young man was dying 
with what is properly known as “ galloping consump- 
tion,” one strange phase of which is that the patient 
often strenuously believes he is on the road to recovery, 


174 


HONEST NED. 


when he is actually at death’s door. He told of his 
night-sweats, his coughing, and hemorrhages, but in- 
sisted that he was stronger than he had been for a 
week ; and with a flickering glow o£ triumph spoke of 
his rising up in bed, so as to- look down in the street, 
when he heard the ring of the bell. 

“Well, now, that is good!” exclaimed the gentleman, 
with a beaming face, which did the poor boy more good 
than any cunning mixture of drugs could do; “but 
don’t presume on your strength : it is better to remain 
in bed until Dr. Meredith advises you to try sitting 
up.” 

“ He told him he must not think of doing so,” re- 
marked the mother, wiping her eyes and speaking more 
composedly, “and I urged him not to; but every ring 
of the door-bell startles him : you understand how it is, 
doctor.” 

“Certainly; but I am sure he has nothing to fear; 
no one can want to-disturb a sick boy.” 

“ I don’t know about that,” she replied significantly. 
“ Mr. Melton and McCutcheon both -told us that some 
one had tried to follow them when they came here, and 
Edmund never comes in until he is sure the way is 
clear ;At would break his heart if he was the means of 
bringing the^officers.” 

Here was a-confirmation of what had been clearly 
hinted before ; this young man, certainly less than 


HONEST NED. 


175 


twenty years of age, and with but a few more days to 
live, had --committed soma crime which caused him 
to be in mortal -fear of the law. 

What was it? (Was it the theft of the black dia- 
mond? It seemed incredible, in view of his physical 
condition ; but the detective probed a little farther, to 
assure himself. 

“ How long has your son been confined to his room ? ” 

“Ever since he came home, a,- fortnight ago last 
Saturday.” 

“And during that time he has not been out of the 
house?” 

“Mercy, no ! he has never-left his room at all.” 

This statement, if true, -a and what reason could there 
be for doubting it ? — established another alibi. Clearly 
Wash Fulmer was mot the one who, a week before, had 
taken the .black diamond from the safe of Shipman & 
Gumbridge. But was he -not an -accomplice ? Did it 
not begin to look as if Ned Melton, and possibly James 
McCutcheon, had formed some extraordinary" partner- 
ship with this young man, who, if he chose, could 
unravel the whole mystery? These questions which 
Blowitz asked himself indicated the thoughts in his 
mind. But the present was no- time to indulge in 
them ; that could be done afterward. The occasion 
must be used to push farther toward the truth. 

“ Mr. Melton and McCutcheon, of whom I have 


176 


HONEST NED. 


heard nothing but good things, do not think their visits 
here are known ? ” 

“ Mr. Melton told us to-day he was sure they were 
not, and he promised us to be very careful ; you under- 
stand that it would kill Washington if the officers 
should come.” 

“ I beg you to give yourself no. uneasiness on that 
score. May I ask whether Mr. Melton remained here 
all night last Tuesday ” — 

At that moment the door-bell rang. The sick lad 
gave a start and attempted to rise ; but the doctor laid 
his hand on his shoulder, and said gently, — 

“ Stay where you are; it’s all right.” 

Meanwhile the mother had stepped to the window 
and looked out. She took one cautious but searching 
glance, and then, turning about, looked at the visitor 
with/ a strange -expression, andsaid, 

“ It’s Dr. Meredith.” 




James McCutcheon sat at the table studying the excellent drawing. 

Tage 191 


HONEST NED. 


177 


CHAPTER XXVI. 

“Confound it! what-brings himMiere?” thought 
Detective Blowitz, who, however, was quick to rise to 
the emergency. 

“ Are you sure it isn’t an' officer ? ” asked the terrified 
patient, with his dark eyes fixed on his mother. 

“ Certainly ; don’t I know the doctor, dear? ” 

She started to go down-stairs to admit him, when 
Blowitz interposed. 

“ One moment, please-allow me.” 

She looked inquiringly at the gentleman, who ex- 
plained, — 

“ I wish to have a-few words with him alone.” 

This sounded reasonable enough, and she took the 
chair he had just vacated by the head of the bed. 

On his way down-stairs, Blowitz slipped the empty 
instrument-case under his arm, and concealed it as best 
he could, though with poor success. Then he promptly 
opened the door. 

Dr. Meredith showed his surprise at seeing him, 
and looked inquiringly in his face. 

“ I didn’t expect to meet you here, sir,” he said 
brusquely. 


178 


HONEST NED. 


“ Nor did I expect to meet you,” replied the detec- 
tive in a disguised voice ; for he saw, despite the words 
of the physician, that he did not associate him with the 
man that called on him some time before to procure a 
prescription for the rheumatism that didn’t trouble 
him ; “ but no harm has been done — ^ a trifling mistake 
— that is all.” 

And without pausing for further words, Blowitz 
passed out of the door, and moved hurriedly in the 

direction of Third Avenue. He was in no personal 

* 

fear, but he concluded there was no need of lingering 
in that neighborhood. 

Dr. Meredith stood a moment aghast at the effron- 
tery of the man. Then, with a sniff of indignation, he 
slowly ascended the stairs and made his way toward 
the sick-room, where Mrs. Fulmer stood by the open 
door awaiting him. 

“ Who _was that man ? ” he asked, stopping in the 
short hall outside, and addressing the mother. 

“ Why, Dr. Hannibal; he said you sent him, as he 
was late getting to your office.” 

“ The scoundrel ! he 

But the physician was quick-witted. He saw the 
look of terror that flashed into the face of the woman, 
and he knew his words had been heard by the sick 
youth. If he should express his thoughts, the shock 
was likely to be fatal to him. He switched off with 
inimitable cleverness. 


HONEST NED. 


179 


44 What did you say his name was ? ” 

“ Dr. Hannibal.” 

44 Oh, ho ! my-old friend,” he responded, with a genial 
laugh, walking into the room, and taking the seat that 
had been vacated but a few minutes before by the bogus 
physician ; “ why didn’t you speak plainer? Isn’t that 
funny v now?” 

44 What’s that? ” asked the boy, deeply interested. 

44 That I didn’t .xecognize him ; but it was dark in the 
hall, and I hadn’t a good look in his face. You know 
the light was turned low.” 

He saw that mother and son were still bewildered by 
the occurrence, and he didn’t- hesitate to prevaricate 
to a shocking degree. 

44 Hannibal is one of the greatest, wags that ever 
lived ; was always playing jokes in college : the scamp 
concealed his face on purpose to perpetrate a trick on 
me. He could have got to my office in time if he 
wasn’t sa plaguey lazy ; he knew I would score him at 
the first chance, and he dodged me.” 

44 But won’t you see him ? ” 

44 The sly rogue will slip round to my office like 
enough, and be waiting there for me when I go back, 
with a gentle reproof on his lips because I am late. 
I first thought he was some rival like Dr. Hannibal, 
who was sneaking in to my patient, as he has tried to 
do more than once before, the scoundrel! but it’s all 


180 


HONEST NED. 


right — it’s all right; or rather, I will soon make it 
so.” 

“ I supposed from what he said,” gently interposed 
the mother, “ that he was to consult with you.” 

“ Of course ; and can’t we do that at my office much 
better than here ? He made an examination of W ash- 
ington, didn’t he ? ” 

“ Yes ; a very thorough one.” 

“ What did he say ?” 

“ He was hopeful, and told him he must follow your 
directions asjslosely as he could.” 

“ Sensible man ! ” exclaimed Dr. Meredith with a 
laugh; “he wouldn’t dare say. anything else. I’m 
glad he spoke encouragingly to you.” 

I have said Dr. Meredith laughed and appeared 
cheerful ; but the good fellow assumed it. all for the 
sake of his^patient and the mother. Nevertheless, he 
was madder than he had been in years. The Dr. 
Hannibal he., named was a myth. He had caught sight 
of the instrument-case under the arm of the visitor, and 
he had learned of the medical examination made by him. 
His conclusion was that the caller was another physician 
who was seeking in this underhand manner to steal his 
patients from him. His conduct, indeed, was so unpro- 
fessional that he determined to find out who he was, and 
make sure that he was rigorously disciplined by the 
Medical Board ; that is, if he should prove to be a 
“ regular.”" 


HONEST NED. 


181 


Needless to say, however, that all the investigations 
he set on foot ended in naught. He could get no 
trace of “Dr. Hannibal,” who failed to present him- 
self again at the home of the Fulmers. Dr. Meredith 
concluded that the fellow had been scared off, and 
would not show himself again in that neighborhood. 
The call of the physician during his own office-hours, 
must have been prompted by some unusual cause. Such 
was the fact. At his visit in the afternoon he had 
detected most significant symptoms in his patient. Not 
quite sure what they meant, he knew the truth would 
become manifest within a few hours at the most ; and 
it was to learn that truth that he made this unexpected 
visit. 

The poor fellow on the couch saw nothing but hope- 
fulness in the pleasing face bending over him, for the 
gentleman had learned, long before, how to counterfeit 
that emotion ; but when he -rose to go he gave the 
mother a glance which she understood as a notice that 
he wished to speak to her alone. She followed him, as 
was her custom, to let him out of the door; and the 
two paused a few minutes in the lower hall. 

“Well, Doctor, what is it?” she asked, nerving her- 
self for the answer she dreaded to hear. 

“ Have you had any hope for the last week, my dear 
Mrs. Fulmer, that your boy would get well ? ” 

“ I knew he was very ill,” she replied in a tremulous 


182 


HONEST NED. 


undertone ; “ but he was so hopeful himself that J grew 
to share it with him.” 

The physician gravely shook his head, and whis- 
pered, — 

“ Dismiss it.” 

“ Then there is-no hope, Doctor ? ” 

“You must bear up for his sake; don’t let him see 
that you know that he has but a few more days to 
live ” — 

“ O Doctor, don’t ! ” pleaded the mother. 

She would have shed tears, but the fountains of grief 
were dry, and she rallied by a supreme effort. 

“ How long do you think he will last? ” 

“ I cannot say, but it is- short at the most — only a 
few days, as I said just now.” 

“ Will it be a week ? ” 

“ Possibly ; but I don’t think so : he’s liable to go at 
any moment. I can do no more for him; he is close 
to death’s door.” 

With a few sympathetic words the medical gentle- 
man bade her good-night and left. 

Meanwhile, Detective Blowitz awoke to a most un- 
comfortable fact ; while he was playing the rdle of a 
physician, he found he was in actual need of one him- 
self. He was attacked with a peculiar though faint 
dizziness while at the house in Houston Street. He 
thought nothing of it, but it returned again while 


BONEST NED. 


188 


ascending the steps of the Elevated; and had he not 
caught the guard, he would have fallen. As it was, 
several looked at him as though they thought him 
intoxicated. 

His head rang and buzzed all the way home. But, 
with his iron will, he forced himself to walk the short 
distance necessary to reach his house. There he or- 
dered his servant to send at once for his regular 
physician. He came, examined, prescribed, and told 
his patient that he was in. for a long-attack of fever. 
So it proved ; and for a full week the great Detective 
Blowitz was as helpless as an infant a few weeks old. 
Then he began rapidly to regain health and strength. 


184 


HONEST NED. 


CHAPTER XXVII. 

Matters went unsatisfactorily in the meanwhile 
with young McCutcheon. It will be recalled that he 
had sent Micky Murphy to Sea Cliff, L.I., to learn of a 
surety whether the gentleman whom he was to see 
there was the one that he had observed leave the store 
of Shipman & Gumbridge at the time the theft of the 
black diamond was known to have taken place. 

The appointment was made for ten o’clock the suc- 
ceeding night, at the saloon where the two held their 
last interview. McCutcheon, as may be supposed, was 
present on time, having first assured himself that no 
detective was shadowing him ; but the party of the sec- 
ond part did not show up. The youth waited until 
after eleven, and then went home, disappointed and 
disturbed. 

vHe had had. misgivings about the Irishman. Aside 
from the fact that he was not himself on that night, 
there was a doubt in the mind of the j^outh as to his 
truthfulness. It may have been that Micky scented a 
prospective reward, for he had already hinted at some- 
thing of the kind ; and if this should prove true, he was 
likely to lead the youth on a wild-goose chase. Me- 


HONEST NED. 


185 


Cutcheon reappeared Monday evening at the saloon, 
trying to . persuade himself that his man might have 
mistaken the night set for their meeting ; hut he again 
failed to put in an appearance. 

Annoyed and puzzled more than he was willing to 
admit, McCutcheon made his way to Murphy’s saloon, 
having kept a watch for him in vain through the day. 
The young man in charge assured the inquirer that 
Mr. Murphy had not been seen since he left, and he 
was beginning to wonder what had become of him. 

“It would be strange if some accident has befallen 
him,” reflected the disturbed McCutcheon ; “ can it be 
that any one is interested in keeping him away? Per- 
haps the guilty man has scented danger, and has ar- 
ranged it -with him, so that he shall remain absent until 
it is too late ; but it is hard to see how that can be.” 

McCutcheon still kept his own counsel. He re- 
frained from giving Melton a hint of what he was 
doing, and warned him to be as careful as ever in his 
visits to Houston Street. As the time passed, they 
noted that the “shadow” was removed ; that is, so far 
as they could ascertain. 

“It may be he has assumed some guise which de- 
ceives us,” suggested Melton. 

“ I doubt it ; I have been on the watch for anything 
of that kind, and I don’t believe he could have escaped 
Have you seen any one acting suspiciously ? ” 


me. 


186 


HONEST NED. 


“No; and you can be sure I have kept my eyes 
about me. Mrs. Fulmer says she has. observed no one 
in the neighborhood of the house that appeared to be 
watching it.” 

“ That might have been, without her detecting it.” - 

The lady, by the request of Dr. Meredith, refrained 
from telling anything about the call of Dr. Hannibal ; 
not, as has been shown, that he had any fear, but 
through a wish to avoid worrying the youth unneces- 
sarily. 

It was well for their peace of mind that she did so ; 
for McCutcheon would have been quick to read the 
real meaning of the visit. 

McCutcheon was meditating a visit to Sea Cliff, in 
search of the missing Murphy, but refrained, from a be- 
lief that he would appear at any hour of the day; 
besides which, he could not believe he was still at that 
well-known resort. He had gone to some other place, 
and most probably was in hiding somewhere. He 
dropped into his saloon several times a day, until Mel- 
ton bantered him on forming bad habits, and expressed 
some curiosity to know the cause of his action. 

“ I am looking for a certain person who ought to be 
there,” said his friend. “But you must ask me no 
further particulars.” 

Mr. McFarlane called one day to inquire whether 
anything had been learned of the missing diamond. 


HONEST NED. 


187 


McCutcheon, while answering in the negative, studied 
him closely, and came to the conclusion that the young 
man was innocent of all complicity in the theft. He 
had hardly suspected it; but, truth to tell, he didn’t 
know whom to -suspect, and was looking for a clew 
wherever it might be found. He had inquired in other 
directions for some one who, happening to pass the store 
on the night of the theft, had seen the party within ; 
but he met with no success. 

“ Micky Murphy is the only-person who can tell me,” 
he concluded, “provided he tells a true story; but 
where in the name of the seven wonders can he be all 
this time? ” 

Melton’s visits to Wash Fulmer became more fre- 
quent as he saw the end approaching. McCutcheon 
accompanied him at times, and once or twice went 
alone. As the death of the poor fellow drew nearer, 
his visitors relaxed the caution they had shown at first 
in approaching the place. 

So long as there was hope that young Fulmer would 
get well, they neglected no care, and it has been shown 
with what skill they conducted themselves ; but when 
the end was not only inevitable, but close at hand, the 
necessity for such vigilance ceased. At his death it 
would be gone altogether. So it came about that the 
time speedily arrived when they discarded all precau- 
tion, and went and came openly, taking turns in looking 


188 


HONEST NED. 


after the store. Had Detective Blowitz been on deck, 
his task would have been easy ; but he had accomplished 
all that was to be done in that line, besides which, as 
will be remembered, he was in the hands of a physi- 
cian, and was in such a bodily state that all the black 
and white diamonds in the world possessed no interest 
for him. 

One evening, puzzled, disgusted, and heartsick, Mc- 
Cutcheon walked into the rear room of the saloon near 
the bridge, and looked around. 

There sat Micky Murphy, smiling, and as effusive as 
if this was the time set for their meeting, and he had 
anticipated it. He rose and extended his hand. 

“ I hope yees warn’t becoming worrit about mesilf.” 

“Worried, Micky! I didn’t know what had happened 
to you ; have you met with an accident? ” 

“ Only a few trifling ones, such as getting me head 
broke and me ribs cracked.” 

“ What do you mean ? ” 

The rosy face of the Irishman became rosier than 
ever; but he laughed and replied, — 

“I won’t deny the same to a gintleman like yerself; 
but the thruth of it was, that after going to Sea Cliff, 
as I agreed, I started for home, and on the train who 
should I maat but Tim O’Shaughnessy and Pat 
O’Toole. They live aH Jamaky, and nothing would 
do but I should stop off long enough to make them 
a friendly call ” — 


HONEST NED. 


189 


“ I understand,” interrupted McCutcheon, wondering 
why lie had not thought of it before ; “ you went on 
another spree.” 

“ Where’s the good of denying it ? And it was one 
of the biggest, rip-roaringest, high old tears of me life ; 
I’ll niver forgit it, if I live to be as old as Methusalem. 
I came round all right this morning, barring a little 
buzzing in me head, caused, Pat and Tim told me, by 
the illigant clip I got in a little friendly scrimmage we 
had with their friends in Jamaky.” 

“ Well, how did you make out? ” 

“ I obsarved the gintleman sitting on the porch of 
the hotel at Sea Cliff ; let me show you something.” 

Fishing in his inner coat pocket, he brought forth a 
piece of paper on which was a penciled picture of Mr. 
Gumbridge. The drawing and- likeness would have 
done credit to a professional artist. 

“ Who did that ? ” asked the astonished youth. 

“ Mesilf,” was the proud reply. 

“ Why, Micky, that can’t be- excelled ; you have 
marked-talent in that line.” 

“ I took a squint at the~gentleman whin he was raad- 
ing a paper under one of the traas, and didn’t, obsarve 
me.” 


“ And do you tell. me this is the man you saw coming 
out of our store at the time of the robbery? ” 

“ No, sir; that wasn’t the man.” 


190 


HONEST NED. 


“ But you described him accurately.” 

“ You stopped me afore I was through ; if I had 
gone a little farther, ye might have, learned more. I 
saw the face of the man so plain, I couldn’t be mis- 
taken, and I’ve made a sketch of him, which perhaps 
ye may recognize.” 

He drew out a second slip of paper, and laid it on the 
table before James McCutcheon, who was struck speech- 
less when he scanned the features, lined so accurately 
that there could be no possible mistaking the identity 
of the individual. 


HONEST NED. 


191 


CHAPTER XXVIII. 


> James McCutcheon sat at the table studying the 
excellent drawing which Micky Murphy, the Irishman, 
had placed in his hands. It was as well executed as 
the first, whose likeness to Mr. Gumbridge could not 
have been closer; and there was every reason to believe 
that the last was equally good. It bore some resem- 
blance to Mr. Gumbridge ; but, as has been stated, it 
was that of another man. ' 7 7 

While the youth was scrutinizing # the work, the 
author sat smiling, with his eyes fixed on the face of 
the lad. Suddenly the latter looked up. 

“ Have you ever seen-this man until you met him on 
that night, coming out of our store ? ” 

“ Niver; though I took him for Mr. Gumbridge, as ye 
calls him: and ye’ll admit there’s aTesimblance betwaan 
the two of thim.” 

“ There is, undeniably, although this one has one 
characteristic that I did not expect to see.”. 

“ What might be the same ? ” 

“ The side yvhiskers ; I never saw them on him : they 
are the same as those o£ Mr. Gumbridge.” 

“ Which explains the mistake made by mesilf in say- 


192 


HONEST NED. 


ing that he was the gintleman I had obsarved many a 
time in the store.” 

With his eyes again riveted on the presentment, 
McCutcheon was silent another full minute, when he 
looked up as abruptly as before. 

“ Micky, how long have you rented this saloon ? ” 

“Ye can figure for yersilf ; I took charge on the first 
of last May.” 

“ Ah ! ” 

There was a world of meaning in that ejaculation of 
the youth. 

A flood of light had burst upon his brain. It gave 
him a glimpse of the truth. Carefully folding the 
paper and placing it in his pocket, he handed a bill of 
large denomination to Murphy. 

“Phwat’s that fur?” demanded the Irishman, look- 
© 

ing upon the money, butdiesitating to accept it. 

^-You have earned it; it is yours ; don’t refuse it.” 

“ Be the powers, but I will -until I understand phat 
it’s fur.” 

“You have shown me who -it was that entered our 
store and stole the diamond.” 

f 

“ Is there any reward offered for the finding of the 
same gintleman ? ” 

“ Well, no, I believe not; but what of that? ” 

“ Did ye own the diamond ? ” 

“ Of course not.” 


HONEST NED. 


193 


“ Thin phwat the blazes are ye offering me the 
money fur? If Mr. Gumbridge chooses to pay for the 
information I have given ye, I’ll not object; but sorry’s 
the day whin I takes anything from a loikely young 
gintleman like yersilf.” 

Micky sturdily refused, and McCutcheon was obliged 
to return the money to his pocket. 

This little incident banished all the misgivings the 
youth had felt as to the integrity of the Irishman. In 
fact, he saw that he was . truthful as the day itself. 
Had he -not been, he never would have*" confessed that 
he was under the influence of liquor on the night he 
met the thief, and he would have framed some other 
excuse for his long absence from the city, instead of 
frankly admitting he was indulging in a “racket” of 
monumental proportions in the little Long Island town 
of Jamaicav^True, he had' hinted about a reward for 
the information he was able to furnish, but it was on 
the single .condition that it should be given to him 
by the parties who could afford to do so, and who were 
directly interested. 

“Micky,” said McCutcheon, “I did have some doubts 
about your being right in this matter, and I will con- 
fess that I was not sure you were telling the truth; but 
1 have no such fear now. I believe implicitly every 
word you have said, and there is not a doubt in my 
mind that you have given to me an excellent and ac- 


194 


HONEST NED. 


curate likeness of the man who took the diamond, and 
whose identity not one of those looking for him has 
ever suspected.” 

“ Micky Murphy has a good many failings,” said the 
Irishman humbly, “but among them all there’s one 
that niver was there, and that’s lying ; he would staal 
before %oin’» that.” 

“ I don’t doubt it ; and may I ask that you will not 
tell any person about this until I give you permission?” 

“ I’m willing if it’ll sarve ye, for what right has any 
one to come bothering me wid his questions? ” 

“There hasn’t been any one trying it?” asked Mc- 
Cutcheon, uncertain whether his -frequent visits to 
Micky’s saloon had not beennoticed by the detective. 

“Niver a wan, save yersilf.” 

“ I didn’t know but some one of them had sought to 
pump you ; and you haven’t told any one else about 
this?” 

“ Niver a wan ; for do you mind that there’s mighty 
few who knows of the little sarcumstance ye have min- 
tioned? If some one had-spoken on the subjact, I 
would have been likely to have^onvarsed and told him 
all I have- told ye ; but now Micky Murphy’s lips are 
sfgled till yersilf chooses to open thim.” 

With many thanks to the honest fellow, and with as- 
surances that he should be remembered by the right ones, 
McCutcheon shook his hand and took his departure. 


HONEST NED. 


195 


On the outside he lookecL searchingly around for 
suspicious people, but saw none, and took the car to 
his own home. 

“ T would care very little if that detective was hang- 
ing round,” he reflected ; u for I have no reason to fear 
him further. He can get nothing out of Murphy, and 
lie’s the only one that can give any information. Poor 
Wash Fulmer is not likely to last through another 
night, and we have nothing further to hide there. 

“ But,” added the youth, his brows wrinkling with 
perplexity, “the mystery isn’t- cleared up yet. It 
seems impossible that Micky should be right, and yet 
I know he is. Some things more must be unraveled 
before the thing is explained. The truth is now bound 
to come out, but it’s a strange story that must be first 
laid bare.” 

McCutcheon had broken a partial engagement for the 
sake of not missing Murphy; and glad he_was that he 
did so, for the news he -gathered was astonishing. 

“If it wasn’t for the temporary disgrace it would 
cause. Ned, and the row his uncle would make,” he 
mused with a smile, “ I would, advise him to let them 
arrest him, that his Triumph might be the greater ; but, 
after all, if they choose to arrest him, how can he help 
it? The detective who visited him at Ocean Beach 
assured him that all he had to do was to prove where 
he spent that night, and he would be cleared of every 


196 


HONEST NED. 


possible suspicion. Ned refused absolutely, and why 
didn’t they arrest him? It was Mr. Gumbridge’s for- 
bearance, for the case was suspicious enough to warrant 
it ; and if it had been pressed it would have gone hard 
for a time with the fellow, for he would have died be- 
fore breaking his promise to poor Wash. We didn’t 
know a while ago but Wash would get well. He was 
so strong, so resolute, and so hopeful, that his mother 
and we imbibed something of the feeling. But the 
doctor has told her that he won’t live twenty-four 
hours ; and when he is gone our- obligation to secrecy is 
ended. In fact, there is no reason now why it should 
be kept, except possibly the^ fear of a- visit by the 
officers of the law at the time poor Wash is in his last 
extremity. 

“ I have no doubt that Ned is- there now,” continued 
the youth more, gravely, as he drew out his watch and 
looked at the face; “Wash thinks all the world of him, 
and Ned deserves it. He came from tlie-shore on pur- 
pose to be near him; he has spent money on the sick 
one which he could ill afford, for his uncle’s course is 
mean in forbidding Mr. Gumbridge to pay him larger 
wages: I shouldn’t be^ surprised if Ned has used part 
of the money he saved for vacation, so that he couldn’t 
afford to stay any longer at Ocean Beach ; it would be 
just like him. 

“ I would go round to Fulmer myself, even if it is so 


HONEST NED. 


197 


late, if I didn’t know he would rather have Ned, and he 
expected to go. Ah ! why didn’t Lihink of it ? ” 

He started up in v excitement, and was on the point 
of leaving the car to take another down-town, when, 
recalling how-late it was, he settled back in his seat. 

“It will do as well to-morrow; in fact, I won’t gain 
anything by sending the dispatch to-night.” 

On the morrow, before going to the store, he stopped 
in the Western Union building' and sent a cablegram to 

o o 

London, saying to himself as he^did so, — 

The answer to that will solve the mystery.”-: 

And he was right. \ 


198 


HONEST NED. 


CHAPTER XXIX. 

The reader lias perceived that the two detectives 
whose energies were centered on finding the person that 
had taken the black diamond from the safe of Shipman 
& Gumbridge were working from different stand- 
points. 

Erastus Blowitz wanted to believe that Ned Melton 
was innocent; and yet, as he saw it, every indication 
pointed unerringly to the youth as the criminal. His 
efforts, therefore, were devoted to weaving the net 
around him, despite his own personal sympathy. True, 
there were times when his admiration and regard for 
the youth led him to doubt what may be said to have 
been the evidence of his own senses, and to feel a loath- 
ing for his task; yet his training and predominating 
sentiment of duty kept him at it until, when on the 
very threshold of discovery, a serious illness lifted him 
out of the rdle of detective, and held him idle for more 
than a week. 

On the other hand, James McCutcheon, guided by 
a natural detective instinct, was approaching the true 
solution, but he started from another standpoint; he 
knew Ned Melton was innocent. ^'Tlad he chosen, he 


HONEST NED. 


199 


could have uttered the words that would have proven it 
within an hour; but his lips were sealed, as were those 
of Ned Melton himself, upon the one vital question, — 
where his friend spent the night on which the robbery 
occurred. He knew, but he dare not tell until the oc- 
currence of a certain expected event, which at the first 
seemed to be weeks, months, and even an indefinite 
period distant. True, his investigation tended toward 
the same goal as that of Detective Blowitz ; for, while 
one was ..aiming to fasten the guilt upon Melton, the 
other sought to ascertain who the real criminal was. 
When this was learned, the two detectives must arrive 
at the same destination, and their conclusions be identi- 
cal. But, as I have shown, the light that fell upon each 
path came from a different point. 

Enough has been told to show that McCutcheon was 
advancing toward the true solution. Nothing was surer 
than that he would reach it in time. 

It was the same intuition that kept his lips sealed 
toward Melton himself. He was tempted more than 
once to tell him what he was doing ; but, so long as a 
doubt remained in his own mind as to his success, 
he deemed it best not to do so. He might awaken 
hope only to be disappointed. 

“ As soon as I receive an answer to my cablegram,” 
lie reflected on his way to the store, “ I will tell Ned all, 
and we will have a good laugh over the opening of eyes 


200 


HONEST NED. 


that will follow. I wonder now whether that detective 
has given up the task? Not likely; for those gentry 
hang on like grim death. He is at work somewhere, 
and will turn up when least expected.” 

Having sent his dispatch under the-sea, he was 
nervously anxious for the reply. It might come within 
an hour or two, or might be delayed until the next day, 
and possibly longer. He could not help feeling uneasy 
until it arrived. Although it was the dull season, the 
store had more business that day than for any time in 
weeks. A number of important^ customers appeared, 
and one of their traveling agents spent a couple of 
hours talking business with the two clerks. He was 
about setting out on a trip that would take him as far 
West as Denver, and it was necessary to complete his 
arrangements. 

McCutcheon was glad this was so, since it gave his 
mind the occupation it needed. But for that, the slow 
passing hours would have been almost intolerable to 
him. The haunting^ fear with McCutcheon was that an 
officer might appear at any moment and arrest Melton. 
Had it been himself that was concerned, the youth 
would not have cared, knowing, as heMid, that vindica- 
tion was at hand. He had half wished more than once 
that he would be taken in charge by the authorities, 
for the same triumph awaited him. But in his cooler 
moments he shrank from the thought. Colonel Bain- 


HONEST NED. 


201 


bridge, the guardian of his friend, was expected home 
almost any day, and, to say the least, he would make it 
mightily unpleasant for his nephew. Besides, the cer- 
tainty that the lad would be under suspicion for a long 
time, and that with the majority of mankind the accu- 
sation of crime is accepted as proof of guilty filled him 
with a great dread. 

There could be no question that the situation from 
the first would have authorized Ned’s arrest. Why it 
had not been made, was^due to the forbearance of Mr. 
Gumbridge, who manifestly demanded further proof. 
But he was a man of such uncompromising principles, 
that he was likely to become impatient as time passed, 
and insist that the prosecution should be mercilessly 
urged. McCutcheon suspected the reason why the 
gentleman had left town so suddenly and joined his 
family on Long Island. He could not bear the worry 
and anxiety, and meant to stay away until some definite 
clew was struck. That was liable to reach him at any 
time; for a detective cannot be expected to keep at 
work for a week and more without accomplishing some- 
thing definite. He must report to his employer, and 
demonstrate that he is “ pushing things.” 

The afternoon was half gone, and business was 
slacking up, when a messenger boy entered the store. 
McCutcheon’s heart gave a quick throb, believing, as 
he did, that he had brought at last the delayed reply to 


202 


HONEST NED. 


his cablegram. But the envelope in his hand bore the 
name of Edmund Melton, who opened it. 

“ What I expected,” he remarked in a low voice, as 
he passed it to his friend. 

“Yes ; I looked for it before this,” replied McCutch- 
eon, who read the words, — 

“Don’t delay : Washington is dying. His mother.” 

“ Go at once,” said McCutcheon ; “ I will look after 
the store.” 

There were tears in the eyes of both as Ned quickly 
changed his working-coat for his. street one, donned his 
hat, and hurried off toward the elevated railway. 

“To -think,” mused. McCutcheon when left alone, 
“that Ned Melton should ever be^suspected of doing 
wrong. ^Ele is one of the noblest young fellows that 
ever lived. While he is at thejbedside of a sick fellow, 
who has no- claim upon him other than that of hu- 
manity, some one opens the safe and, takes out the 
black diamond. Straightway Ned is suspected of being 
the thief, and probably at this -moment more than one 
are certain he is, and are pressing all their efforts 
toward proving it. But let them do their worst ; right 
is right, for God is God, and he shall triumph over 
them all.” 

Not another customer entered the store during the 
rest of the afternoon. 


HONEST NED. 


203 


The traveling agent had gone, and McCutcheon sat 
behind the .counter, idly watching the people passing 
to and fro on the pavement, and giving free rein to his 
meditations. 

It lacked yet some minutes of five o’clock when he 
began his preparations for closing. He completed the 
work in hisusual thorough manner, and, when through, 
followed the footsteps of his friend, who had left several 
hours before. McCutcheon had become so accustomed 
to looking for the detective who had shadowed them 
for several days, that he glanced suspiciously at every 
one in sight, and, while waiting on the platform of the 
elevated, scrutinized his companions. He was sure no 
one was present who felt any interest in him ; for there 
happened to be but two, — a barefooted urchin and an 
Irish woman with an immense market-basket. 

“ I wouldn’t care if there were a half-dozen,” he re- 
flected, while stepping on the cars ; “ for we have noth- 
ing more to dread. I haven’t got my answer from across 
the ocean yet; but, no matter what it may be, Ned is 
safe.” 

Despite the self-confidence of the } T oung man, there 
was just a grain of misgiving in his mental calculations. 
If the answer should be disappointing, it could not 
shake his faith in Ned Melton. He knew that the boy 
spent the eventful night with Wash Fulmer; for Ned 
told him so, and the sick boy and his mother had con- 


204 


HONEST NED. 


firmed it. But McCutcheon could not. testify of his 
own personal knowledge that such was the* fact ; for, 
as the reader will recall, he was at his own home that 
evening, with several friends, and never once saw Ned. 
The testimony of Mrs. Fulmer would be all that was 
of a positive nature, and the value of that might be 
impeached by the officers of the law. It was this shad- 
owy fear which hovered in the background of young 
McCutcheon’s hopes, and prevented that feeling of ab- 
solute certainty of victory that otherwise would have 
come to him. 

Passing along Houston Street, with his meditations 
transferred to the sad scene awaiting him, he hurried 
his footsteps, and strained his eyes to catch sight of that 
which he dreaded to see. 

It was there, — a black crape fluttering from the door- 
knob. ^-The end, so far as poor Wash Fulmer was con- 
cerned, had come ; he was dead, and the seal on theTips 
of Ned Melton and James McCutcheon was removed. 

Death had removed it, and they could now speak. 


HONEST NED. 


205 


CHAPTER XXX. 

Wilton Gumbridge, the wealthy jeweler in dia- 
monds, had a delightful time with his family at the 
Sea Cliff House at Sea Cliff, Long Island ; that is, for 
a brief while. 

He took several rides down the frightfully steep 
incline to the wharf, and reflected on what would 
follow if the two cables parted and let the car descend 
the precipice, as if driven from the throat of a ^passive 
columniad he took his family out on the Sound 
several times ; he indulged in delightful drives through 
the surrounding country ; he sat under some of the 
trees and read his paper, or, leaning back in his easy- 
chair, listened to the incessant prattle of the score and 
more of Cubans who flocked thither, and whose tongues 
never seemed to grow weary ; he took a hand in the 
progressive euchre party, and would have won the first 
prize — that is, if it had been given to the one who 
scored the lowest number of points. He had a merry 
time frolicking with his little daughter, and spent 
many sweet hours chatting with the wife who grew 
dearer to him as the years passed over their heads. 

But all this time he was..uneasy, and as the days 


200 


HONEST NED. 


wore on lie grew more so. He had told his wife^ noth- 
ing about the black diamond, his reason being a wish to 
save her all unnecessary worry, for she would have 
shared what was his ; but he became impatient at the 
receipt of no news. He had sought to get away from 
the annoying matter, and had done so more utterly than 
he anticipated. Finally he sent a brief note to Detec- 
tive Blowitz, asking for -information. Three days 
passed and there was no reply. Then he telegraphed, 
and two more days went by and brought no response. 
About this time Mr. Gumbridge’s impatience turned 
into something like indignation. 

“ I am paying Blowitz a liberal sum te push this 
matter, and he doesn’t think l am of enough-account to 
give any attention to my letters or telegrams. The 
business cannot have taken him so far from his home 
that he didn’t receive one or the other. There’s one 
way of finding out.” 

That was to go to New York, and he did it the 
next day. To his surprise, on calling at the home 
of Blowitz, he found that gentleman, pale and thin, sit- 
ting in his easy-chair. He smiled faintly when he rec- 
ognized his caller, and managed to rise to his feet with 
a little of his old vigor as he greeted his friend. All 
Gumbridge’s impatience vanished at sight of the officer. 
He expressed his sympathy, and asked_ how he was 
getting along. 


HONEST NED. 


207 


“Yesterday was the first time I sat up,” replied 
Blowitz ; “ I read your letter and telegram, and sent off 
a reply last night which I had to dictate.” 

“ I left Sea Cliff this morning before your letter 
arrived, so this is all news to me. But tell me the 
whole thing.” 

Detective Blowitz related the story, which is familiar 
to the reader. 

“ I am picking up rapidly,” he added in conclusion, 
“and was just making ready for a trip down-town. 
You see, I have been eliminated as a factor in the prob- 
lem for more than a week, and the result is that I shall 
have to- begin over again. A fellow can’t do much 
work with fever rioting in his veins and his brain topsy- 
turvy; but the doctor says I am all the better for my 
little seJt-back. The poison was in my system, but it is 
all gone, and I am like a garment that needed cleansing, 
and has had a thorough one.” 

“ You think there is no risk in going out ? ” 

“ The doctor told me that if the day proved pleasant, 
it would be much better for me than to stay in the 
house. This is one of the most delightful days of the 
whole summer. It is cool, with a gentle breeze blow- 
ing, and I long for the ride.” 

“ I will call a carriage, and we’ll make things com- 
fortable,” said the visitor, stepping to the telephone 
and ordering a vehicle and driver. “ Wouldn’t you 
like to take a turn through Central Park ? ” 


208 


HONEST NED. 


“No; it’s a good way there, and something tells me 
I should go to your store. I can’t explain the reason ; 
but my experience has taught me that whenever such 
an impulse comes over me, it is unsafe for me to disre- 
gard it. So, if you are willing, we will ride down there, 
have a talk, and look around.” 

“ You know that young Melton has returned to his 
work ? ” 

“ Yes ; I found that out before I fell ill : he threw off 
something of his- vacation.” 

“ A few days ; I presume he was too uneasy at the 
seashore to enjoy himself.” 

In telling about his illness, Detective Blowitz did 
not explain all the circumstances. He merely, said that 
while at work he was taken down so. suddenly and un- 
expectedly that he was barely able to get to his home 
and bed, after which, for several days, everything was a 
blank to him. The old secretive instinct closed his lips 
against any definite revelation to his employer, until he 
had gotten farther along the^ tortuous road he was try- 
ing to follow. Understanding his repugnance to speak- 
ing on these points, Mr. Gumbridge did not ask the 
questions that he knew would be parried, though he 
was eager to gather any possible crumbs of comfort 
within reach. 

^This day was destined to be aored letter one to Mc- 
Cutcheon and Melton and Mr. Gumbridge.") It was not 


HONEST NED. 


209 


quite noon, and there were no customers in the store, 
when the two clerks were astonished to see the carriage 
halt in front, out of which their employer stepped, and 
turned to help Detective Blowitz, who, with a smile, 
waved him away. 

“ I’m not quite as bad as that ; but to-morrow it will 
be I who will help you to get around.” 

“ Not for twenty years yet ! ” responded the jeAveler ; 
“ I'll give you a lesson in gymnastics one of these days 
that will make you open your eyes.” 

“ I’ve no doubt of it ; I always open my eyes at the 
tumbles of the clown in the circus.” 

Mr. Gumbridge shook the hands of his clerks warmly, 
inquired after McCutcheon’s health, and introduced his 
companion under his right naihe, though making no al- 
lusion to his profession. McCutcheon, despite the man’s 
evident feebleness^ suspected it, and Ned fancied there 
was something in his voice which recalled the visitor 
to the hotel porch at Ocean Beach; but neither he 
nor McCutcheon showed their suspicion by word or 
manner. 

Mr. Gumbridge and his companion walked to the 
office and sat down, the boys wondering what was 
coming next. It was on the jeweler’s mind more than 
once to ask his clerks whether they had heard anything 
about the missing diamond, but Blowitz shook his head. 
He therefore spoke only of the business of the store 


210 


HONEST NED. 


during his absence, and, as was to be expected, received 
a satisfactory account from the young men. 

It Avas at this juncture that a telegraph boy arrived, 
and McCutcheon’s heart gave another bound. 

But lo ! the lad bore two telegrams. One was for 
James McCutcheon, and the other for Shipman & Gum- 
bridge. The last-named gentleman opened his, read 
the words, and then exclaimed,/— 

'/‘Well, in the name of the .seven wonders, what can 
that mean ? 

“What can what mean?” asked the detective. 

“Read that and, explain- it if you can,” replied Mr. 
Gumbridge, passing the paper to Blowitz, who kept his 
chair, while his friend flung himself into his own seat. 

The detective read the following, — 

Amsterdam, August — , 18 — . 

Shipman & Gumbridge, 

Maiden Lane, New York: 

The black diamond was delivered to us to-day. 

Hammer & Schwartzfeldt. 

It was an amazing message indeed; but James Mc- 
Cutcheon smiled when he read his, for it bore upon the 
same question, and furnished the additional light that 
was needed. 


HONEST NED. 


211 


CHAPTER XXXI. 

The story of young Washington Fulmer was that 
which, alas ! may be told of many a youth in this broad 
land of ours. 

His father died too early in life for them to remem- 
ber him, and left his mother with a moderate compe- 
tence, which sufficed barely to support her and the only 
child. The latter was bright, alert, and industrious, 
but, while yet a small boy, developed a waywardness 
that soon brought grief to the sorrowing widow’s heart. 
He would steal, and lost several situations because of 
yielding to the propensity. Finally, when seventeen 
years old, he joined a gang similar to the notorious 
Whyos- in another part of the city, and for weeks was 
engaged in wrong-doing that compelled him to dodge 
the officers of the law. 

It was about this time that Ned Melton and James 
McCutcheon, who,, were “ slumming” through Hous- 
ton Street and the neighborhood, engaged in practical 
work for their Master, came across young Fulmer, and 
took him in hand. They persuaded him to attend some 
of the meetings of the Y. M. C. A., that admirable or- 
ganization, the extent of whose good works shall never 


212 


HQNEST NED. 


be known until the last great day; and everything 
looked hopeful for the youth’s thorough reformation 
and a starting upon a new and better life. 

But the evil hour came one night, when a couple of 
the gang ran afoul of Fulmer, coaxed him to drink 
beer, and then induced him to join them in the burglary 
of a wealthy residence up-town. During the commis- 
sion of that crime, the owner of the house was shot 
dead by the leader of the criminals, who was captured, 
and suffered the extreme penalty of the law. He was 
“ game,” however, and refused to give away liis missing 
companion. The second member was run down by the 
police, and sent to Sing Sing for a long term. This 
miscreant revealed that the third and missing member 
was Wash Fulmer, who, he declared, was as guilty as he. 

In one sense this was the fact, and in another it was 
not; for young Fulmer was the party who stood out- 
side to give warning of the approach of the officers, 
and he therefore took no actual part in the crime 
which resulted in the death of an estimable citizen. 
But the convict was angered because Fulmer did not 
apprise them in time of the descent of the cops, who 
came down on them like a cyclone, and from whom the 
sentinel escaped by a hair’s breadth. 

Fulmer fled the city, and remained for weeks in hid- 
ing. He knew a large reward was offered for his cap- 
ture, and if he fell into the power of the law, nothing 


HONEST NED. 


213 


could save him from State prison. But through all his 
crooked ways the lad retained a dove for his mother, 
whose heart he had nearly broken. Alone, among 
strangers too, he began to reflect upon his life and to 
recall the gentle words of Melton and McCutcheon. 
He warmed especially toward the former, who, he felt, 
was the truest of friends to him. Remorse was followed 
by repentance, and he determined at last to return to 
his mother, to confess all to her and to the two young 
men, and to leave the result to Providence. 

He had hardly reached this decision when he was 
seized with the illness that was destined to carry him off 
with startling swiftness. The first attack convinced 
him that he had not long to live. All now that he 
asked was that he might be given time to prepare for 
death and make his peace with the heaven Jie had so 
offended. 

One dark, stormy njght, after reconnoitering his 
home for more than an hour, he stole through the front 
door, and a minute later was clasped in the arms of his 
weeping mother. The observant parent only knew 
that her darling boy was with her again, and her heart 
filled with gratitude when he declared that he had re- 
pented and henceforth meant to lead a good life. 

But she saw, too, the signs of illness upon him. 
She forced him to bed, and sent for a physician. The 
first thing that the lad asked was that Ned Melton 


214 


HONEST NED. 


should come jto see him. The mother hesitated to send 
for the youth ; for the officers had been at her house 
several times looking for her son, and she feared it was 
still under surveillance. She put off her boy; but he 
was so urgent, that at last she dropped a note to Ned 
Melton, asking him to make sure that no one^bserved 
his visit. 

Ned was quick to respond, and no officer noticed his 
call. He shook the hand of the stricken youth, prayed 
with him, gave him sympathetic words, and encouraged 
him to persevere in the good resolutions he had formed. 
McCutcheon called several times; but it was Ned Mel- 
ton who was closer to the dad’s heart, and upon whom 
he leaned most heavily as the -shadows of death gath- 
ered round him. 

Had young Fulmer been -well and strong, no one 
could have dissuaded him frouusurrendering to the 
officers of theJaw, and receiving the punishment which 
he felt he deserved ; but, so long as he was confined to 
his bed, he did not wish to be disturbed. He asked 
and received from Melton and McCutcheon their pledge 
that, under no circumstances, would they tell any one 
of his presence in the house until he got well ; for al- 
ready the treacherous nature of his disease began rais- 
ing hopes that were never to be fulfilled. 

It is safe to say that had young-Fulmer known the 
situation in which young Melton was to be placed by 


Honest nHd. 


215 


the theft of the black diamond, lie would have insisted 
on removing thejauspicion without delay, but he never 
knew it. 

Ned Melton continued his visits, which were 
prompted by the purest motives that can actuate 
humanity. He knew he was helping to shelter a crim- 
inal from the daw, but he never- doubted that he was 
doing his Master true service; and, as has been shown, 
his own threatened disgrace never tempted him to 
break the promise given to the lad who lay on his 
death-bed. If that stricken one died, the seal would 
be removed ; if he lived, it rested with him whether it 
should be- or not. 

A part of the money which Ned had saved for his 
vacation went in the purchase of delicacies for the boy, 
and he spent many hours at his bedside, pointing out 
how infinitely more happy is that person who lives in 
the approbation of his heavenly Father than is he who 
gains worldly honor, wealth, or fame. The boy listened 
yearningly to the counsels, until his prayer was that he 
might be spared to prove by a life of good deeds how 
fervent and true was his repentance. That boon, how- 
ever, was denied him ; but we would be presumptuous 
were we to doubt that the One who never turns -a deaf 
ear to the truly penitent, consented to hear the-ery of 
poor Wash Fulmer as it went up to him when the 
mortal darkness was closing around him. 


216 


IIONEST NED. 


Ned Melton was not summoned from the seashore 
by any call from his dying friend; but it was his fear 
that he was closer to the end than he suspected, and 
the knowledge that he longed for him as he longed for 
no other one, that led him to make his visit to his home 
at a time when a stay at the seaside was most tempting, 
and his vacation Avas but half gone. On the night pf 
the taking of the black diamond, he reached the home 
at about nine o’clock in the evening. Young Fulmer 
had one of his bad turns that night, and Dr. Meredith 
had been sent for in haste. He administered what re- 
storatives he could, and departed just before the arri- 
val of Ned Melton. 

The latter’s presence and cheery words did more than 
the medicine to tone up the invalid. He was* longing 
for the presence of the manly, handsomeu-Ned Melton, 
who was not ashamed to kneel and pray at his bedside, 
and who knew how to say just the .things that a hun- 
gry, famishing soul needs when in-extremity. He was 
aware that Ned was at the seaside on his vacation; and, 
though he had insisted that ha - should be sent for if 
Wash grew worse, the lad was too- unselfish to permit 
it. 

It can be understood, therefore, how he brightened 
up when, in answering the startling ring at the door, 
his mother brought the very>one he wished to see more 
than any one else in the world. When it was gently 


HONEST NED. 


217 


proposed toward midnight that Ned should return to 
his home, he shook his head, and said with a laugh, — 

“You can’t get_rid of me in that fashion: it’s been 
so long since I’ve seen Wash, that I’m going to stay all 
night with him.” 

The countenance of the sick boy glowed at these 
words, and he inwardly called down the blessings of 
heaven on the lad who had become so dear to him. 

“If I do get well,” he said to himself, “I will prove 
in some way my gratitude. It would be a pleasure to 
die for him, for he has been the means of saving me.” 

The mother apologized for the poor accommodations 
of the place, and expressed the fear that it was not 
good enough for their visitor ; but her gratitude and 
affection for him were as deep as that of her son. 

“Now, I don’t want to hear anything more of that,” 
he protested; “when Wash gets asleep, I’ll take a 
snooze on the lounge. I’ll lay this cane within his 
reach, and if I don’t wake when he wants me he can 
give me a whack over the head.” 

The boy smiled at the thought of striking his friend 
even gently, while the mother thought it her duty to 
sit by the side of her son through the night. 

“You won’t do anything of the kind,” replied Ned ; 
“I have been having a jolly time at the seashore, while 
you’ve been watching and nursing until any one can 
see you are worn out. Go to your own room ; go to 


218 


HONEST NED. 


sleep, and don’t dare open your eyes until the sun 
shines to-morrow.” 

“ But it may be necessary ” J— 

Ned sprang to his feet, caught the wan woman in his 
powerful arms, and playfully pushed her out of the 
room. 

“ There ! ” said he, with mock seriousness at the 
door ; “ don’t you dare show yourself here again unless 
I call you ; I want you to understand that I am boss 
to-night.” 

Mrs. Fulmer could not but obey, and she did so 
smilingly ; for somehow or other that young man 
seemed to bring all the sunshine from- out-doors with 
him, and was irresistible. 

When Ned returned and took his seat by the bedside, 
he saw the sick boy shaking with mirth. The whole 
thing was so odd he could not help it. It was the first 
time he had laughed in a long while, and it proved, 
too, to be theTast time of his life. 

So it was, that all through the night of the disap- 
pearance of the black diamond, -Ned Melton was acting 
the part of the. Good Samaritan, and doing theTmsiness 
of his Master. ^ 


HONEST NED. 


219 


CHAPTER XXXII. 

The observant Detective Blowitz, even in the flurry 
of the receipt of the cablegram by Mr. Gumbridge, 
noticed that a second one was handed to McCutcheon. 
He said nothing at the moment, but, accepting the one 
proffered him by the jeweler, read it carefully, and then 
thoughtfully stroked his chin. 

“ Um-um ! ” he muttered ; “ that is rather odd.” 

“ Odd ! ” repeated Mr. Gumbridge ; “ it is unaccount- 
able.” 

“ I don’t know about that ; there are few things in 
this world that cannot be explained when everything is 
known.” 

“ I should like to have you or any one else explain 
that,” insisted the agitated gentleman, walking back to 
his office and taking his seat by him. Pie had awakened 
to the fact that he was speaking rather louder than was 
prudent, especially as a customer entered the store at 
that moment, and Ned Melton stepped forward to wait 
on him. 

“ This seems to. hint that the stone has made a- voyage 
across the ocean since last you. saw it.” 

“ It doesn’t intimate it, it says so,” insisted the 


220 


HONEST NED. 


jeweler, catching it up and reading the message again. 
“Yes, sir; 4 The black diamond was delivered to us 
to-day.’ That’s what it says.” 

44 How long ago was it taken from the safe ? ” 

44 Over two weeks.” 

44 Precisely ; that gives it time enough to reach 
Amsterdam by the usual route.” 

44 But how the mischief did it get there ? ” 

44 It probably went most of the way by steamer.” 

Mr. Gumbridge looked at the imperturbable detective 
with such a reproving expression that the latter laughed, 
and the former uttered an impatient-sentence. 

The truth is, that no man feels in a more jubilant 
mood than he who is rapidly recovering from severe 
illness. Besides that, the sagacious -detective saw that 
the moment had come when the cloud of suspicion that 
had gathered over Ned Melton’s head was fast vanish- 
ing, and would soon disappear forever. He could not 
repress a certain boyishness ok manner, even though it 
grated upon the feelings of the friend with him. 
Finally, however, he forced himself to be serious. 

44 Gumbridge,” said he, 44 invite that clerk here ; I 
would like to ask him a few questions.” 

44 Which one ? ” 

44 McCutcheon ; he’s an unusually- bright fellow.” 

The high opinion which Detective Blowitz lately 
formed of that young man had greatly increased of late. 


HONEST NED. 


221 


McCutcheon overheard the words, but he waited for 
the invitation of his employer, which was given imme- 
diately. 

“ McCutcheon,” said Blowitz, waving him to a seat, 
“you are as much interested in solving the mystery 
that has bothered us for a fortnight as any one of us ; 
am I right? ” 

The youth nodded his head, but forced back the 
smile that was twitching at the corner of his lips. He 
suspected the drift matters were taking, and meant to 
have a little entertainment out of it. 

“ If I am not mistaken, you have been doing a little 
detective work yourself.” 

“ I have made a few attempts I’ll admit ; but what 
could I do against a— veteran like yourself? Why do 
you suspect me, sir ? ” 

“ I don’t suspect you ; I am sure of it.” 

“I should like to know your grounds.” 

Detective Blowitz assumed a sternness which he was 
far from feeling, and recounted some of McCutcheon’s 
movements which had aroused his suspicion. Gum- 
bridge listened with increasing interest, and McCutch- 
eon, unabashed, made answer with a smile, — 

“ The gentleman who called on Ned Melton at Ocean 
Beach and urged him to tell where he spent the night 
on which the black diamond was taken, who tried to 
track him to a certain house in Houston Street, who 


222 


HONEST NED. 


hovered about the front of this store, who looked at 
times like a laboring-man or sporting-man, is, if I 
mistake not, the same ^individual who is subjecting me 
to examination at this moment.” 

Gumbridge shook with silent laughter, and slapped 
the detective on the shoulder, — 

“ He’s got-you, Erastus ! ” 

“I think I’ll have to shake on that,” said Blowitz, 
extending his hand; “ you and Melton did your parts 
well, even though I managed to find out that the num- 
ber of the house on.Houston Street is — , in which you 
were so much interested.” 

Blowitz thought this would stagger the young man ; 
but the latter replied : — 

“ That is correct, and we have not the slightest- ob- 
jection to your knowing it. You will recall, I think, 
that Ned Melton told you that if a certain expected 
event took place he would give you the information. 
That event has taken place.” 

“ What was it ? ” 

“The death of Washington Fulmer, the , young man 
whom he and I visited at No. — Houston Street.” 

u Who was- W ash Fulmer ? ” 

“ A young man thaMJOmmitted a crime, that truly 
repented, and that has gone to the last Judge of us all. 
Ned and I gave him our^romise that we would not 
reveal his hiding-place, and it seems we kept it effectu- 
ally from, you.” 


HONEST NED. 


223 


“ Not as effectually as you think ; for I learned it 
more than a week ago.” 

“ Why, then, did you not inform the officers of the 
law ? ” 

“Why should I do so? I may tell you that. I saw 
young Fulmer face to face ; that I knew at once he had 
but a short time to live. What could have been gained 
by betraying him ? The officers would merely have 
placed the house under surveillance, and might have 
imbittered his dying hours. I had too much-humanity 
for that. 

“No, sir; if either you or. Melton had told me the 
secret, it would have been safe with me.” 

“ I would like to shake hands with you again,” said 
McCutcheon, extending his hand. In the last minute 
his feeling of a certain kind of contempt for the detec- 
tive had changed to respect and admiration. He had 
proven he had a heart. 

“ Yes,” said Blowitz, settling back in his chair; “you 
two youngsters were so sharp that it did not take me 
long to find it impossible to shadow you on the street. 
So I secured quarters near by, and soon located the 
house. I saw you reconnoitering along one side of the 
street, and signaling to Melton when to go in and 
when to come out ; I secured entrance myself, without 
the young man or his mother suspecting my business or 
profession ; I discovered his mortal illness, and then 


224 


HONEST NED. 


went home sick myself, and kept my bed for a week, 
and here I am.” 

“ I respect you for the feeling you showed,” said 
McCutcheon, “and I have no doubt that you would 
have been the last one to add suffering to the dying 
hours of poor Fulmer. All the same, however, neither 
Ned nor I would have told you the secret.” 

“ I honor you for theMevotion to the lad. Had he 
been a well young man, 1 would have turned him over 
to the officers without hesitation.” 

“ No ; you would not.” 

“ And why ? ” 

“ He would have saved you the trouble ; it was only 
his mortal illness that prevented. He was a genuine 
penitent, if there ever was one in the world.” 

“And Ned’s visits, as well as those of yourself, were 
to comfort and cheer him ? ” said Mr. Gumbridge. 

“ They were ; though Ned called far_oftener than I, 
and was the Jnstrument under Heaven of- bringing the 
poor fellow to see the error of his ways, and to point 
him to the only help that remained.” 

“ You are two noble lads,” said Mr. Gumbridge, as 
the moisture gathered in his eyes ; “ Erastus, how 
many opportunities you and I throw_away on the score 
of pressing business. Ah,” he added with a sigh, 
“ what excuse shall we make at the last great day ? ” 

“ None, I am afraid, that will satisfy the ^Questioner,” 


HONEST NED. 


225 


replied the detective gravely ; “ many of us will go 
empty-handed instead of bearing sheaves.” 

“ And it will be our own fault,” suggested McCutch- 
eon, impelled to make one effort to drive the truth home. 

“ Since it has been established that Melton is inno- 
cent,” pursued Blowitz after a pause, “only, one thing 
is left ; that is, to ascertain who took the diamond.” 

“ Does any question remain ? Do you and Mr. Gum- 
bridge doubt that the stone is in Amsterdam ? ” 

“ No ; but who could have taken it from the safe ? ” 

“ Inasmuch,” said McCutcheon with a meaning smile, 
“ as the innocence of Mr. Gumbridge, of Gibbons, Mel- 
ton, and myself has been established, there is only one 
other person who possibly could have done it.” 

“ You mean Mr. Shipman? ” exclaimed the astonished 
partner ; Ji impossible ! ” 

“ And why impossible ? ” 

“ He is inJEurope.” 

“He is now; but he was in New York a little over 
two weeks ago.” 

“ How do you know that ? ” 

“ I addressed a cablegram to his son Richard in Lon- 
don yesterday. The reply was delayed, but it arrived 
at the same time as yours, and. here it is.” 

As he spoke, he handed his . sheet of paper to Mr. 
Gumbridge, who read the following, — 

Father was there, of course ; particulars by mail.’t 


226 


HONEST NED. 


“ That settles it,” said Mr. Gumbridge with a sigh 
of relief ; “ but why didn’t he come and see me, or 
leave some explanation ? I don’t understand it.” 

“ Wait till his -letter arrives.” 

“That’s what we’ll have to do,” said Detective 
Blowitz. 


HONEST NED. 


227 


CHAPTER XXXIII. 

While the conversation of Gumbridge, Detective 
Blowitz, and McCutcheon was in. progress, Ned Melton 
was engaged in looking after the store. There was an 
unusual run for the-dull season, and he caught few of 
the words that -passed. He could hear the— hum of 
voices, for they had modulated their- tones ; but, inas- 
much as he made no effort to -overhear anything said, 
the thread of the talk was lost upon him. 

“ Of course,” said Mr. Gumbridge after a minute’s 
thought, it has been established that Mr. Shipman 
took the diamond ;) that is proof that it was„ not stolen, 
for he was the means of having it forwarded to us, and 
he had as much right to open the safe and take it out 
as I, for neither of us owned it. But what puzzles me 
is why he did not either see or write to me.” 

“He did write to you,” said McCutcheon, in his 
quiet manner. 

The jeweler and detective turned inquiringly upon 
him, and the former asked, — 

“How do you know that?” 

“ There is an intimation of it in his son’s cablegram. 
Besides, I never suspected that Mr. Shipman was a 
man inclined to practical jokes.” 


228 


HONEST NED. 


“ He never^was, so far as I know ; but let me look 
at that message again,” said Mr. Gumbridge, taking 
up the paper received a few minutes before by Mc- 
Cutcheon. 

44 U-m-m, I’d like to see how you figure out anything 
about a letter in those few words.” 

44 The Avords, as I construe them 



It costs a good deal to send words 


Mr. Richard Shipman takes the trouble, after answer- 
ing my question, to add 4 of course,’ which shows that 
he is ^astonished at my question. He wouldn’t have 


been surprised, had he not known that his father had 


written you an explanation before that, or at the time 
he took the diamond from the safe. Depend upon it, 
he wrote you a note at the time, which you failed to 
receive, or, receiving r lost withoijt reading.” 

Detective Blowitz studied the countenance of young 
McCutcheon, and felt a growing admiration for his 
mental acuteness. 

44 1 agree with him,” he said, nodding his head ; 44 but 
we may as well bring an end to speculation and await 
the arrival of facts. The great burden is lifted, and we 
can afford to wait. I think now I will return to my 
house, as the day is getting well along.” 

The reader knows that McCutcheon was, right re- 
specting the . letter, Avhich it cannot be said- 44 never 
came,” for it did come ; and its loss was not-chargeable 


HONEST NED. 


229 


to the United States mail, nor to any neglect on the 
part of Mr. Shipman, the writer. Mention has been 
made of such a. missive as having been received by Mr. 
Gumbridge shortly after the diamond was missing, but 
which he, in his mental -abstraction, dropped on the 
floor of his room without observing. This was the 
hasty explanation written by his partner, and which, if 
read, would have made^clear that which for a long 
time seemed beyond explanation. 

Without quoting the last letter of the senior partner, 
its import may be given. 

When Mr. Shipman was traveling with his family 
through Europe, he reached the city of Amsterdam, and 
called upon the famous diamond firm of Hammer & 
Schwartzfeldt, with whom his house had had dealings 
for more than a score of years. Both he and his part- 
ner had made similar calls before, as was natural with 
a house with which they maintained such intimate 
business relations. 

At his hotel, however, that morning, Mr. Shipman 
had received a cablegram from a capitalist in New York 
informing him that it was imperatively necessary that 
he should come to the metropolis without delay, in 
order to close a transaction involving several hundred 
thousand dollars, and which could not be settled with- 
out his presence, which would not be necessary for 
more than an hour or two. 


230 


HONEST NED. 


Mr. Shipman had decided to sail from Liverpool on 
one of the “ ocean greyhounds ; ” and, having a little 
time at his disposal, dropped into the house of the 
Dutch diamond dealers. While there Mr. Hammer 
mentioned that they had received an offer for the cele- 
brated black diamond, which proved to be about the 
same sum that had been accepted bj R. Field McFar- 
lane, and which fact, of course, was unsuspected by 
either him or Mr. Shipman. Mr. Hammer added that, 
if the stone was not sold, he would be obliged if it was 
returned to them. Mr. Shipman replied that he was 
convinced it was unsold ; and as he was on the point 
of sailing for New York, with the expectation of im- 
mediately returning, he would engage to bring it back 
with him. With this understanding he and his family 
left for London, where they were to await his return. 

He was just in time to catch the-Etruria, and landed 
in New York on the evening of the day already referred 
to many times. 

The last letter received from his partner was written 
from Sea Cliff, Long Jteland, and he supposed he was 
still summering there.* 'Had he known oivsuspected lie 
was at the Astor House, he would have-called there 
immediately on his arrival. Not knowing it, he took 
a carriage to the Hoffman House, where the. important 
business meeting was to b& held. As was natural, 
when such a large sum of money is involved, the inter- 


HONEST NED. 


231 


view lasted until late at niglit. Mr. Shipman was 
anxious to return to his family without delay. He had 
learned that a fast steamer sailed at seven o’clock the 
next morning, and he -decided to take that. But he 
intended to carry the black diamond with him. He 
therefore walked down Broadway, reached the store 
between twelve and one o’clock, took out the stone, 
closed and secured the safe, and actually stayed over 
night at the hotel where Mr. Gumbridge was sleeping, 
neither party ever suspecting the fact. It was at the 
Astor House that he sat down in the small hours of the 
morning and wrote the letter to his partner, explaining 
that he had taken the jewel, giving the reason why he 
did so, and asking Mr. Gumbridge, in the event of 
his having accepted an offer for it, to telegraph him 
at once, that the, gem might be returned. 

> This letter, instead of leaving at the office of the 
hotel, he carried to his room, and the next morning, 
while on his way to the steamer, dropped it in a letter- 
box. *Tts fate has already been told. Its reception was 
delayed, and, when received, the seal was never broken. 
Mr. Shipman continued his voyage to London, never 
dreaming of the flurry his act had caused, and which 
never could have taken place had not the junior part- 
ner in his absent-mindedness lost the missive containing 
the facts. Ilf' 

Rather oddly, on the very day the second explana- 


232 


HONEST NED. 


tory letter came to hand, Mr. McFarlane entered the 
store to make inquiries concerning the missing stone. 

44 1 am pleased toHnform you it has been found,” 
replied Mr. Gumbridge. 

44 Ah, how Was That ? ” 

44 Mr. Shipman took it with him to Amsterdam, where 
the owners of it have received an offer which happens 
to be just the .same as yours. Of course Mr. Shipman 
was unaware at that time of your purchase.” 

44 That’s too bad ; I suppose it is-gone, then, so far as 
I am concerned.” 

44 1 hope not ; I have telegraphed the owners in 
Amsterdam, telling them that I had sold it before their 
offer was received, and unless they have actually de- 
livered it to their purchaser, I expect them to return it 
to me for my customer, who is justly-entitled to it.” 

44 Have you -received any word ? ” 

44 A message came yesterday saying that it would be 
shipped at once. The-black diamond, like th£- Ivoh- 
inoor and other ^famous stones, seems. -destined to be- 
come a globe trotter.” 

44 1 am greatly obliged to you for your kindness and 
trouble, which is- more than I expected.” 

44 1 have done no more than was clearly what I ought 
to have done, and I shall be much disappointed if you 
fail to receive it.” 

44 Well, you have my -card ; kindly send me word 
when it arrives, and I wilke all.” 


HONEST NED. 


233 


Assuring his customer that the matter would be 
attended to, Mr. Gumbridge quietly awaited the issue 
of events. It may be .added that the precious stone 
came safely to hand, and passed into the possession of 
R. Field McFarlane, who lost no time in presenting it 
to his affianced; and, at the present writing, it is the 
most prized gift of that young lady, who has lately 
exchanged her name for that of the donor of the won- 
derful gift jewel. 

Poor Wash Fulmer was dead, and gone to his last 
account ; not the smell of fire remained about the gar- 
ments of -Ned Melton, and I wish I could, close this 
history as I would likedo do, and as the reader expects 
it to be done ; but we are now upon the-threshold of a 
series of events involving young Melton and others 
who have been named, and attracting attention in many 
portions of the country, and awakening a thrill of sym- 
pathy that has not yet died away. 

Colonel Marcellus Bainbridge, the- uncle and guard- 
ian of young Melton, moved back to the city in Sep- 
tember, shortly after Mr. Shipman returned on the heels 
of the black diamond. The first thing that McCutch- 
eon noticed after shaking hands with the senior part- 
ner was, that during his absence he had- grown side 
whiskers after the fashion of those worn by Mr. Gum- 
bridge. There was a natural resemblance between the 
two gentlemen, who were about the same age. The 


234 


HONEST NED. 


fact of the whiskers is mentioned as a tribute to the 
artistic skill of Mr. Micky Murphy, who made such a 
faithful sketch of the individual that abstracted the 
black diamond from the safe of the firm, and who 
received a gefierous reward for the unique help he ren- 
dered in reaching the truth. 

Mr. Shipman had a hearty laugh over the story; but, 
like his partner, he appreciated the admirable part 
played by McCutcheon, and especially Ned Melton. 
He complimented them in a few words, being opposed 
to saying a great deal ; but, on the first opportunity, he 
called on Colonel Bain bridge, whom he had known well 
for a good many years. 

“ Colonel,” said he in his off-hand manner, “ you 
ought to be ashamed of yourself.” 

w What are you driving at now?” asked the fiery old 
soldier, lighting his corn-cob pipe and offering a cigar 
to his caller, as they seated themselves in the library. 

“ Your sister must have been of a very -different dis- 
position from you.” 

“ Will you explain what the mischief you mean?” 
demanded his host good-naturedly. 

Why, that nephew of yours is one of the finest 
young men Lever knew.” 

“ What of that?” 

“I was wondering how became to be so; I have 
concluded that he must have inherited hisHine qualities 


HONEST NED. 


235 


from his father and mother, and the matter must have 
been the opposite of yourself.” 

“ A poor joke — a poor joke,” grunted Colonel Bain- 
bridge, puffing his pipe ; “ I would like to laugh, but 
I don’t feel able.” 

“ What I want to get_at is this : we have been follow- 
ing your orders respecting Edmund, which were that 
he should not receive more than ten dollars a week.” 

“ Umph ! ” grunted Colonel Bainbridge, puffing away, 
and suspecting what was coming. 

“It was a confounded shame, but we have stuck to 
it ; he won’t accept any more _pay from us without 
your consent.” 

“ Not being a scamp, of course he won’t.” 

“We want to raise his salary.” 

“ How much ? ” 

“ Oh, a few dollars or so.” 

Mr. Shipman did not think it best to say that the 
salary he and his partner had fixed as the proper one 
was thirty dollars a week. 

“ You see,” he added, u Edmund is eighteen years 
old ; he is worth as much as either Gibbons or Mc- 
Cutcheon, and it isn’t right that he should be deprived 
of his rights through a whim.” 

The last word was unfortunate. The colonel bristled 
up on the instant. A flush overspread his countenance 
as he replied, /- 


236 


HONEST NED. 


“ I regard your words, sir, as an impertinence. I have 
made known my wishes ; if you or my nephew are not 
willing to follow them, I shall take him away from your 
store. Those wishes are that he shall receive ten dol- 
lars a week, and not a penny more, until he reaches his 
majority. Then he will be at liberty to make a fool 
of himself as most young men like him do.” 

“ You are doing him great injustice ” — 

“ That’s enough ; if there is anything else you wish 
to talk about, I will listen ; if there is not, it’s best your 
call should terminate.” 

Mr. Shipman repressed his indignation, and, taking 
up his hat, bade the irascible. colonel good-day. 

I have given this brief conversation as an introduc- 
tion to the third and last volume of this series, entitled, 
“ Righting the Wrong.” 


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